Skin Deep
by WindRyder1
Summary: NOT A MARYSUE. Lucas falls victim to an accident from an experimental navigation device that forces him and another crew member into the heart of paranormal mysteries. COMPLETE! Comes with a trailer!
1. Part One: Samantha

**((This fic comes with a trailer! I spent 27 hours on it. :) Please got to youtube dot com and search "Skin Deep Seaquest." Only one video shows up and it's mine. I'd recommend doing that before reading so as to get you pumped up for the story. DISCLAIMER! I do not own SeaQuest, or the clips or music in the video. The only thing I do own is the voice of Sam, because... well,... it's me! I own my own voice, or at least I hope it hasn't been subverted by Viacom.))**

**((Please note this is NOT A MARY-SUE! Read on and enjoy. :) ))**

**((This story has been altered from its origional format. It has been edited to fit this screen.))**

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**SeaQuest**: Skin Deep

By Melanie Presson

**Part One: Chapter One**

"**Samantha"**

Lucas Wolenczak sat as his computer, feverishly typing away at one of the three keyboards surrounding his cramped little work space. The hard distorted guitar of Electrasy's "Cosmic Castaway" blared through the room from a mini-disk player perched on a CD rack.

He'd shoved all his working computer components into one corner as much as he could, to keep it all localized for easy access, but despite his efforts it spilled over to the rest of his room. Wires that he couldn't stuff back inside their respective technology stuck out from every crevice and crack. It invaded his 1990's memorabilia collection, his inactive technology, his personal gifts, and even across the pipes that ran along the underside of his ceiling like a runway. Noting this as just his way of living, he was content. He knew round-about where everything was, but occasionally there were times when he'd be stuck searching through boxes and under cloths for a specific mini-disk, or the mate to one of his socks. It was a total guys room; Even down to a "Radioactive" sticker on the outside of his cabin door. Most who knew him would joke that the sign was more a warning than a decoration. His room was located just short of the mess hall, so no matter what he did, the subtle scent of fried onion rings and greasy foods from the kitchen lingered in the air.

The loud music--though muffled by the thick metal--seeped though to the outside world beyond his cabin. Samantha let out a breath, dreading what she was to find when she opened the door. The last time she was here, she'd sat on something that resembled a ham and cheese sandwich --only green and fuzzy. The idea of meeting another of its kind made her somewhat nauseous, and forced her to rethink staying for very long. Even last time, she was only here for five minutes. She glanced at the sign on his door that said "Mammal Engineering" and sighed.

She knocked, getting no answer. She knocked again, still being ignored. Impatience overtaking, she figured he'd been sucked inside the trap of yet another project, and pushed open the door. Instantly, her ears popped, and her eardrums were about to follow suit as the full force of the electric guitar and drums burst into the hallway.

"Luke!" she yelled. "Hey, Luke!"

The sixteen-Year-old seemed oblivious--Samantha wondered if on purpose.

"LUCAS!"

Lucas looked up, pen in mouth, and blinked as his current train of thought jumped the track.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were dead!"

A small, brown haired woman standing in the threshold of his cabin held a data pad in her right hand, and looked at him with unblinking, green eyes. She wasn't dressed in the uniform of a UEO science officer, instead she was dressed as a civilian in a pair of blue jeans, sneakers, a faded dark green tank-top, and an off-white button up shirt tied around her small waist. A simple silver dolphin band on a silver chain hung around her neck. Half her hair had been pulled up in a pony-tail with long strands falling to either side of her face.

Lucas thought she was attractive when she first came on board, but over the past two months, he'd discovered that her personality was undoubtedly Celtic. He'd wondered if labeling a hot-headed woman to be of Scottish decent was just a stereotype, but she'd proven him wrong. It was all true. Though she was only eighteen, she'd already perfected 'The Look.'

Lucas knew instantly that he had forgotten something. "Uh," he began, reaching over and clicking off the mini-disk player. "Hi."

"Hi, my ass. You were supposed to meet me in engineering thirty minutes ago. Or did you forget about the modifications we were going to make to the VR core?" She was genuinely surprised something that important would slip the mind of Lucas Wolenczak. "It's test day."

She watched as he scrambled to put on his black Nike sneakers and fumbled with the laces.

"That was today? Jeeze, Sam, I'm sorry. I am. Just gimme a few, k?" he said hurriedly as he saved the program, then pulled a blue and gray flannel shirt over his white T-shirt and jeans. By the time he was ready, Sam had already started back down the hall, brushing past a crewmember from the science division on her way to the maglev.

Lucas caught up to her, trying to tie his shoes as he walked--or rather hopped down the corridor just as she pressed the activation panel. "Look, I got a little distracted is all. It's not like this project is set on a timer. Captain Bridger gave us all the time we'd need."

Samantha stepped into the maglev. "D-deck." She sat down, brushing a strand of short brown hair behind her ear. Lucas sat next to her as the maglev shot through the ship like a bullet through a wind tunnel.

She'd never wanted to be paired with him in the first place, but Dr. Westphalen had insisted that this project to enhance the computer core's connection with the VR helm would be more beneficial if she and the ship's cabin boy worked together. It was meant to give the user control of the ship through the Virtual Reality system; meaning the ship would respond to the person's thought commands. Its scientific name was the VRN: Virtual Reality Navigation, and it was very experimental.

To Samantha, it felt like a school project in science class where you were paired up with the kid behind you simply because the teacher said so. "Why Kristin had to stick me with you is beyond me."

"Hey, it's not like you're any picnic to live with, either. Just remember which one of us is doing all the programming for this thing," he snapped back.

"We both are."

"Not. Try 'Me.'" Lucas jabbed his thumb at his chest.

"It's your territory, Wolenczak, not mine. She wanted me here because I've worked with A.I. systems before."

"Kristin knows I can do this on my own."

"Maybe she didn't think you could _handle_ it on your own." The maglev doors opened and Samantha Kinkade walked out, leaving an irritated Lucas fuming behind her.

He hurried out fast before the door could slide shut and followed behind, happy not to have anything to do with this woman right now. It seemed like every time they got together for something--even breakfast--they would end up arguing, and one of them would leave with more annoyance than they came with. By about the second month of this, the rest of the _SeaQuest_ crew had been getting more and more accustomed to the frequent teenage battles.

-------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Kristin Westphalen waited patiently in the core for the two to arrive. She glanced at her watch, wondering what could be keeping them.

She had personally taken on the responsibility for keeping an eye out on Samantha since the girl was sent to the _SeaQuest_ by Malcolm Landsdowne after the last time Nathan Bridger had been to the Caicos Key Dolphin Research Center concerning Darwin's health. Malcolm thought it would be an excellent opportunity for Samantha to hone her skills with Darwin's vocorder as well as gain more experience, and Kristin had whole-heartedly agreed. Samantha was smart for her age, but Kristin had sensed their resident genius was starting to believe his territory was being infringed upon. Samantha had felt out of place on the boat, but whenever she was with Darwin, or tinkering with her guitar, Kristin saw a light of peace in her that seemed to make her forget that she was sometimes thousands of miles away from her home. Yet when she talked of her father, Shawn, her voice hadn't exactly held the pitch of die-hard admiration.

Shawn Kinkade was a renowned Egyptologist, and her mother, Susan, was a lawyer. Samantha had tried to make it clear that, even though she loved her parents, she wouldn't want to live with them. They'd sent her off to Berkley at the age of fourteen and that had been that.

Kristin wondered when the most advanced boat in the water had become a haven for teenage social refugees.

-------------------------------------------------------

Westphalen stood off to the side, watching the two teenagers work like dogs beneath the heat of the lights as they typed in numerous commands, rerouted power, and worked hard to make this project a success. They'd been down here for weeks, carefully redesigning this aspect of the system, and now it was time to see if all their sweat and blood was really worth it. She could only think to smile.

"I need a little more to the power relays." Samantha adjusted the power intake to the VR helm, and typed on the keyboard for a moment. The yellow spike in the output zone immediately jumped to red. "Whoa! Whoa! Not so much! Lucas!"

"Hang on, hang on," his voice came back over the pal where he was working in the heart of the system. She was at the consol just outside the chamber. "Got it. Is that better?"

The levels bleed down to a normal, calm green. "Much."

The comm. system sounded and she answered in a cheerful voice, "Oz Salt Mines."

Captain Bridger grinned slightly at the joke. They were pretty much in the deepest area of the _SeaQuest_. "We've got the boat ready for the test, Sam."

She was happy to hear the captain's voice. "Give us another couple of minutes, captain. We've almost got the relays at full power."

"Just give the word. Bridger out."

Samantha jockeyed some of the power back and forth between the two relays until she was satisfied, then called her partner. "Ok, try it now."

"When we're done with this, you'll owe me big time, babe," Lucas chimed in, lying on his back and twisting two wires together. He tapped on a data pad that received the readings from the computer.

"I'll owe you nothing. Half this project is already yours, Frodo," she quipped. "And don't call me babe."

'And don't call me babe,' he mouthed. The only nickname she'd ever taken to was Sam. He fussed with the power levels, angling himself further underneath the consol to view the technological masterpiece. "Ah. My preciousss." He hissed.

Samantha chuckled and watched the power levels shift to yellow, spike to red again, then down to green where it lingered. "Ok, it seems stable. I think we got it. Go ahead and stay there while I test this bad boy. Watch the output, Luke."

"Aye, aye, ma'am," Lucas quipped. "And don't call me Luke." He liked the way he could throw her words back at her.

Smirking, Sam started humming "If I Only Had a Brain" and slipped the VR helm over her head, then started up the new sequence. "Ok, captain, we're ready."

Captain Bridger nodded to Lt. Commander Hitchcock, who obeyed the command. "Initiating command transfer, sir. Command set. Authorizing emergency override." The last was for precautions sake. "Override set. We're good to go."

Samantha activated the VR helm, and in an instant she was propelled through a corridor of shifting numbers; hues of blues and greens morphed around her as she slid into the very heart of the computer.

To the outside world, it was merely a jolt of electricity to her temples.

Sam stood in a virtual recreation of the _SeaQuest_'s bridge. Each station was where it was suppose to be in reality, yet there were a flow of graphics and numbers surrounding her in a vortex that spread out to the view screen. The air she breathed even had the same metallic/salt water flavor to it, everything she touched felt real and fully tangible, even her Sketchers clicked on the metallic deck when she walked. It was like she'd been transported into the main computer, though she could still react to the outside world.

"I'm in," she announced. "It's amazing. The detail is incredibly realistic." She touched the smooth surface of the captain's chair, feeling the cold of the metal and softness of the leather cushion beneath her hand. She reached out and touched an image of Junior, then saw it float away from its position around the _SeaQuest_. Awed by this, she smiled.

It had worked.

-------------------------------------------------------

Miguel Ortiz took a second look at his consol and saw the blip that represented the WSKR, Junior, leave orbit with the others and extend to the limit of its range. "Sir, Junior is moving out on its own. It looks like their experiment is working."

Captain Bridger nodded and felt pleased at the accomplishment. If anything, he hoped the success would end the bickering between the two and he could finally get a full day of peace.

Lucas sat under the consol monitoring the power output, seeing it fluctuate every time his partner attempted another command to the ship. At one point, he felt a slight lurch in movement as she turned the ship to the starboard side. Though it was hardly noticeable, he checked the output anyway.

It had been his initial idea, why shouldn't he have been the first to make the trip into the digital world? Sam had worked with VR systems before at Hawaii Pacific as an intern, but he could learn just as quickly as she could. He was the chief computer analyst after all. And one doesn't obtain that title by being able to crush a beer can with one's skull--although he thought it was neat trick anyway and one Ben would have to show him. Just because she was older, she was the one who got to fly. "By two Years," he muttered, shifting slightly to get the numbness out of his right hip, and spoke into the PAL sitting by his feet. "How's it going?"

He got no answer.

"Sam? Hey, Sam." He chose that moment to look up, and wished he hadn't.

-------------------------------------------------------

It felt like something out of a dream. Whatever task she wanted to perform, the VRN system called through the main computer and rerouted command to her instantaneously with her thought. "Captain, I'm bringing Junior back and putting us on our previous course. You'll have your boat back before Ortiz can announce it," she reported happily as she ran her hand across the vaporous numbers and screens before her.

With the ship placed back on course, and Junior on its way in, she reached up to take off the helmet when the electricity sparked at her temples again. She stiffened, then her body went lax and she fell heavily to the consol like a doll. Her head hit the surface with a dull thud.

"What the hell?" Sam pressed the air control that would allow her to leave the virtual reality world, but was rewarded with a violent static shock that forced her to quickly withdraw. She felt light headed for a moment and shook it to clear the fogginess before trying again. "Captain, it's not accepting the exit command." What she heard scared her, for it was only silence that answered. "Captain? ...Kristin? Lucas? Anybody?" For the first time since she'd come on board, she began to feel the noose of panic tighten around her neck.

-------------------------------------------------------

Lucas tapped the indicator as the power levels climbed toward critical red. "Uh-oh."

Quickly, he began switching the wiring, diverting power away from the VR helm, but the levels remained high. "Captain, I can't stop the power flow. If it goes any higher, the main computer could sustain serious damage," he reported into his vidcom.

"Pull the plug." Captain Bridger hastily brought up the image of Lucas and Sam split on either side of the forward view screen as Lt. Hitchcock activated the override protocol. Lucas was vigorously working under the consol in the main computer core, but Sam was leaning heavily against her panel, as if she were asleep with her eyes open. Their emptiness sent a shot of hot fear through him. "Kristin, what's going on?"

Kristin's figure bent over Sam, leaning her against the back of her seat. "I don't know. She's been knocked unconscious and her pulse is dangerously low. I need a med team down here now," she demanded in her commanding British accent. She quickly pulled the VR helmet off Sam's head, letting strands of brown hair fall over her face, and warily touched one of the two scored marks on her temples.

-------------------------------------------------------

Sam kept trying to deactivate the connection with the VR, but it was as if she'd been blocked from it. "Someone please answer. Can anybody hear me? Oh, for the love of Mike," she swore as she tired another area to no avail.

-------------------------------------------------------

Lucas shoved his hand into the guts of the computer, feeling for the chip that connected that VR helm to the power conduits. He'd placed it there over a week ago, so it didn't take him long to locate it. He knew that even though Hitchcock could put the boat back under Bridger's power, it would not stop the power flow. This was a malfunctioning computer that required a cold shut down and fast. The levels were straining on dangerously high when his fingers brushed it. "I got it, Captain!" His triumph was sucked into the surroundings of the small, cramped space. Eagerly, he clutched the chip and yanked as hard as he could, cutting power completely. He watched as the readouts winked out, a sigh of relief forming on his breath. In that moment, he felt a strong surge of electricity crawl up his arm and cover him in a blanket of blue fire. The chip snapped in half and he lurched sideways, hitting his head against a panel hard enough to cause his vision to blur and blacken.

-------------------------------------------------------

Samantha's eyes widened with fear as a bright flash of light overtook her, blinded her, and swept through her like the tides of the sea.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Oh my god," Hitchcock breathed.

The bridge had gone deathly still in a matter of seconds. Nathan's mouth quickly went dry. "You have the bridge, Commander," he ordered to Commander Ford, and briskly ran out of the command center, bolting for the maglev.

When he reached engineering, Kristin already had Samantha on a gurney and two of the medical staff were wheeling her to med bay. "What the hell happened down here, doctor?"

"There was an overload in the system, and it was enough to knock her unconscious. I need to help Samantha, but Lucas is all right. I've given him medication and a brief examination, but he looks worse off than he actually is. He's over there." She looked to where Lucas was sitting against the wall nursing a gash on his forehead and a burned right hand. She laid her hand on Bridger's arm. "Don't worry, Nathan. They're resilient kids. They're both going to be fine. Keep the hope in that." Kristin looked one last time at Bridger before following the med team out.

Bridger walked over and knelt in front of Lucas.

Lucas held a strip of gauze to his head with his left hand, since his right had been bandaged. "I don't know what happened, sir. One minute everything was running smoothly, the next, it was like some kind of wicked Bugs Bunny cartoon."

Bridger didn't recognize the point to the analogy, and thought the bump on the kid's head was worse than it looked. Already there were splashes of black, blue, and yellow forming around the cut. He was sure the boy had a concussion. "I'm just glad you're all right, kiddo."

"How's Sam?"

"Still unconscious, but Kristin will take care of her. For now, I want you to go to your quarters and get some rest. Take the rest of the day off."

"Captain, I can work, it's not that bad. I..."

"That's an order, Lucas," Bridger pushed as Lucas stood and steadied himself from the wave of dizziness that suddenly made the room spin clockwise.

Lucas gave a resigned breath. "Yes sir," and trudged off toward his quarters.

Bridger took in the room that held one outlet for the core computer and shook his head in regret at the mess. It would take a while to repair. Luckily none of the other systems had been affected.

He was still concerned for Samantha, so his next stop was med bay.

-------------------------------------------------------

Lucas stepped into his quarters and flopped down on the unmade bed. He kicked off his shoes and let them lie where they fell, and closed his eyes. The next thing he knew, his right hand reached up and flipped the switch that turned out the desk lamp by his bed, but oddly enough on its own accord.

He blinked, head pounding since the pain medication they gave him hadn't kicked in yet, and turned the light back on, then lay back. Again the light turned off before he realized he'd even moved.

Sitting up this time, he turned the light on and pushed the small lamp as far from the bed as he could, knocking off a couple of mini disks that clattered together onto a pile of shirts. Just as his small idea indicated, his hand reached out for the light again, but this time, he took hold of it and forced it back. To his shock and confusion, it fought him. He tore his arm back to his chest and held it fast, fighting a subconscious command to turn off the light. As his hand shot out again, he threw himself back, only to be rewarded by dropping to the floor, and he rolled. He felt like a marionette being manipulated by the strings of a puppet master. With his left hand, he gripped the corner of the bookcase and held on while the other stretched out for the lamp. "What the hell is going on? G'ya!" Something forced his legs to move and he lunged at the light, crashing into it. He did turn it off, but ended up knocking over most everything on that corner of the desk. Flopping back against the bed, he breathed deeply from the small battle, his mind racing with serious confusion.

Lucas swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. He felt his right arm tingle, then lighten as if whatever had been controlling it had left. Gingerly, he flexed his fingers just for good measure. "I'm loosin' it," he muttered, and climbed back onto his bed, facing Darwin's tube.

The cool light filtering through the blue water shifted in aquatic patterns across his room and played lightly around the low lit bed area. The more he watched, the more he was starting to believe that jolt of electricity had damaged more than just his hand. He sighed, closing his eyes and fell into a fitful sleep.

tbc


	2. Chapter Two

**Two**

Bridger stood behind Kristin and sipped on his cup of morning coffee. He had spent half the night trying to get the disastrous images of Lucas and Samantha out of his head before he'd finally fallen asleep, though he was only graced with five hours before his annoying alarm went off.

Over the past two months, Samantha Kinkade had started to warm up to him as more than just the man who ran the biggest boat in the water. She was already more pleasant at this stage than Lucas had been, and he was more use to the fact that there were children on board.

He'd heard of the work her father had done in the deserts of Egypt with his archeology crew. Dr. Kinkade's work had earned him as much respect among the world of Egyptology as Neil Armstrong had with every space travel fanatic among the science fiction community. Because he'd started to feel the threads of a bond forming between himself and the young woman, his heart ached to see her lying on the medical bed, plugged into machines, and breathing with the help of a C-PAP respirator.

"What's the prognosis?"

"Same as before. She's alive, but in a deep coma," Kristin answered, turning to look at Sam. Her eyes fell from the sight of her--the girl she'd taken under her wing. "She received a heavy charge of electricity through her brain, which was enough to hyper-stimulate the electrolytes in her nervous system. It's a wonder she's even still alive at all."

Bridger lifted Sam's small hand and held it a moment, hoping just slightly that the contact would make a difference. "I've got Lt. Hitchcock working in the core right now. Hopefully, she can shed some light on this," he turned to Kristin, who had taken note of the small gesture of kindness between Sam and the captain. "You'll inform me of any changes?"

"Of course. You'll be the first to know," Kristin answered meaningfully. "Can you send Lucas in? I'd like to run some more tests to make sure he's all right. And change the dressings of his wounds. He took a fair amount of voltage himself, Nathan. I'll be keeping a close watch on him."

Bridger nodded and turned, walking out of the med bay.

"Oh, and no more experiments! Heaven knows we don't need anymore wounded from that blasted computer!" she called to him as he walked out. Letting out a breath, she occupied herself with studying the readouts of the EKG and taking another blood sample from Sam's arm for re-testing. Handing the new vile of blood to Nurse Ellen--one of her more skilled team members--she took a seat by Sam's bed, taking vigilant watch until she was needed again.

-------------------------------------------------------

Lucas awoke with a start, feeling the taste of cotton in his mouth from a rather vivid dream involving him on a tropical beach sipping a martini (if he could ever drink one), and watching Katie Hitchcock walk by in a skimpy bikini. It would have been a great dream if the only other woman who showed up hadn't looked like Samantha.

He threw his feet wearily over the side of the bed and stood, stretching out every cramp, stiff muscle, and popping joints before throwing on his bathrobe. He grabbed his toiletries and made his way to the community men's room--still half awake.

Dropping his bag on the counter, he turned on the faucet and splashed the cool water on his face to get the sleepers out of his eyes, and the weird recollection of yesterday out of his mind. Blindly, he grabbed a towel and wiped off his face, then squinted at the mirror to assess how much of his barely existent five o-clock shadow he had to shave off.

Finding someone else's face looking back at him was the last thing he ever expected to see in his lifetime.

He screamed, heard the high pitch of a feminine scream echo through his head, and -- knocking the bag of toiletries off the sink—stumbled back up against a bathroom stall. "What the hell?!"

"Hey," someone pounded from the inside of the stall, causing Lucas to step away. "Back off, man. Can't a guy shit in peace?"

Lucas blinked, then turned to the mirror again, ignoring the irritated crew member.

Damn. He hadn't been dreaming. Samantha's face reflected in the smooth surface of the mirror with his own, except hers seemed more ethereal and transparent, like a ghost. Stepping cautiously up to the sink, his blue eyes never leaving the reflection, he warily touched his face and drew his fingers slowly down his left cheek, seeing the same look of confusion and shock on hers, as was on his own. "What's going on?" he whispered.

_That's not my voice_, a quiet whisper answered. A flash of fear swept through him.He spun, looking around for the source of the voice and the reflection, but saw no one in his immediate area. Though he recognized both, his voice held trepidation, as he was afraid to even ask. "...Sam?"

The voice came a bit more evident than before and filled with alarmed confusion. _Oh my God. Why am...what...why am I seeing you? Lucas, what...what the_ hell _is going on?_

He winced as her voice grew loud enough to make his head pound.

"Ah! I don't know. Where are you?" He kept looking around the room for small speakers and microphone plants, then slowly smiled as he thought he'd figured it out. "Very funny, Sam. Who put you up to it, huh? Where are the bugs." It was then he remembered sharply that Samantha was still in the med bay unconscious. There was no way this could be her doing.

"Hey, kid, who ya talkin' to?" the other crewmember said as the toilet flushed and he came out to wash his hands in another sink.

"eh, I was…?" Lucas had forgotten about him.

"You were talking to yourself." The crewman dried his hands on a towel and tossed it down the oval laundry shoot.

"You didn't hear that?"

He laughed. "Just you and me here, kid. I think you need to lay off those vid disks of Ben's. You're hearing things." With a fresh grin and a chuckle, he walked out of the men's room, leaving Lucas alone. Well, almost.

"Jerk." Lucas felt himself say the word, but didn't give the command. It was then that something seemed to creep forward enough so that he could feel a separate energy stir in his mind, and it gave him goosebumps. He put his hand to his forehead from the sensation, then oddly found himself examining the same hand as if it was something unfamiliar and deformed from another planet. Something flexed his fingers and kept turning it over like it wasn't real.

_What happened to me?_ Samantha whispered shakily, recognizing nothing about the hand she commanded.

Lucas' mouth went dry and he swallowed. "Where are you?" he asked the empty room again, keeping his voice low, afraid of an answer.

_I'm...I..._ she uttered, then looked back to the mirror--at his angled features, blue eyes and floppy blond hair that hung untamed to either side of his face. She used his left hand to touch the reflection. Lucas' mirror image followed suit. _Oh...God..._

His eyes widened and he forcefully clenched his hand into a fist, pulling it back and spinning around as he backed away. "No _way_ are you in my head. No _way_!" _Holy shit_!

_I don't believe this. I just felt myself talk!_

He pressed the heels of his palms to his temples in frustration as he heard her speak. "Get out!" He demanded.

_I can't!_ she gasped_. I'm trapped!_

"Out, out! _Get out_!"

Lucas clenched his eyes tight as he felt her energy test the edges of his mind, hunting for an escape. He felt pressure as if his brain wanted to explode from his skull, yet was unable to break through. "This can't be happening to me. It can't. It's--it's impossible," he argued, picking up the toppled bag and setting it on the counter. He was still on the adrenaline high the unbelievable shock created as it ran through his system like a lit fuse.

_If it's so impossible, how come I'm in a mens room and no one's noticed?_ She made his head turn to look around them at the details of the lavatory, spotting a man carelessly singing "La Donna Mobile" off key in an open sonic shower. He turned their way to full view before Lucas seized control and whirled completely around.

"Don't _do_ that," he shot through gritted teeth so as not to be heard by the shower guy, who only stopped singing when he caught Lucas staring at him. When the kid turned around, the crewmember went back to his off-pitch rendition of Greek opera.

_I was proving a point._

"I don't care," Lucas snapped quietly, then sighed, grabbing his black bag with his left hand and zipping it closed. "Guys just don't...look at each other. It's sick." He let someone else enter before stepping up to the door.

Samantha felt the motion and instinctively took control of his legs, fighting him for the ability to walk, yet achieved nothing but causing him to trip and fall on his face.

"Ah! Let go!" Lucas pushed himself up and felt something surge through his arms--the same tingle he'd felt last night. "Let...er...g'ya!" He stood partially on his own and clung onto the edge of a sink. His heart was racing. "This is not happening, this is not happening, this is not... Whoa!" He flattened himself against the wall and grabbed a towel rack. "Cut it out!"

When she tried to get up again, he shut his eyes and imagined a hard brick wall. That effort shoved every bit of the invading intelligence violently back to regain full control with a jolt to his body as it accommodated for two people trying to walk at once. "It's not you, it's me. Leave off."

Samantha cried out as she was ripped from control, ending the battle. She felt like she was being kept in a box, away from anything familiar, from the knowing, sense of freedom. It's not easy to suddenly find myself unable to walk on my own, she stammered, feeling scared and frustrated.

Finally sensing he'd regained full control, his head whirling, he started for the door. "This is my body," he gasped, feeling her fear coupled with his confusion. _I don't know how she ended up in my head, but I don't intend to fight her for control of my own limbs_, he thought.

_That wasn't on purpose._

Lucas stopped short as his hand gripped the handle of the door. His eyes widened painfully.

_You don't have to talk out loud. Apparently, I can hear your thoughts. Which is greatly disturbing._

_Oh, perfect. This is going to get annoying real quick_. He rolled his eyes and pushed the door open, stepping out into the hall. It was then he realized he was still in his happy face boxers and rainbow striped robe. The shift in air temperature was a tremendous help in reminding him.

_Are you blushing?_ She could feel heat gather at her--or rather his--cheeks, and felt like she wanted to laugh, then caught the wave of his reason. Oh, her voice came soft and slightly squeaky. _Oh, God, I need to sit down_.

"_You_ need to sit down?"

_Well, what on earth do you expect me to do? I'm a_ man _for Christ's sake, and what's worse,--I'M YOU!_

He flinched as she hollered. _There's got to be a way to get her out of my head_, he thought urgently, and headed back to his quarters, opening the cabin door and sifting through a pile of cloths for a shirt and pair of pants. _How the hell--what the hell happened? It was the VRN, the surge, the broken chip--conduits out of alignment maybe, faulty connection with the core or the VR helm--maybe I missed something in the calculations--the math, but I'm sure I covered everything--double, triple checked..._

_If I knew, I'd tell you. Stop thinking! You're giving me a headache._

He blinked. That was a new one.

Throwing something quickly on--a pair of jeans, his blue flannel and black t-shirt, and his shoes--he started back down the metallic corridor again. Blue light from Darwin's tubes (scientifically known as "Bridger's Follies") gave the halls the feel of being on a glass bottom boat with the ocean light softening the hard industrial steel that formed the girders and halls of the _SeaQuest DSV_.

Samantha remained quiet in the back of his mind and watched the world through his eyes. Though she felt every movement of his body, it seemed more like a layer of thin clothing than actual skin. She could sharply feel the way his arms moved when he walked, hear the sound of jean as the fabric brushed against itself, feel the pressure of his feet each time he took a step, even the warmth of the cloth over his skin. And she had no part in this symphony of human movement. Yet what struck her the deepest was that she could feel the subtle rhythm of a pulse, and she could breathe. Yet so could he. For a moment, the whole of the situation became painfully real to her.

Lucas inhaled involuntarily, and hurried to the captain's quarters as fast he could, dodging people just getting on the day shift, leaping the last few stairs before reaching the bottom, shoving a couple of people out of his way, and skidding on the floor when he had to make a ninety degree turn down one of the narrow connecting halls. A part of him was almost afraid someone would see Samantha running with him, or beside him, or something. All he could tell was that another consciousness had invaded his mind, living there against his will to choose, and didn't seem to care about when and how it decided to grip control of an arm, or hand, or legs, or eyes, or anything at all. He felt so used.

Samantha pulled herself out of the realization slap and gathered enough energy to form a thought--her only method of speaking without taking control of Lucas' voice. _Where are you going?_

"The captain's quarters," he replied with a breath, his skin prickling like he'd been hit by carpet shock.

_What for?_

"The captain will know what do," he said with conviction. He truly believed in his heart that the captain wouldn't turn him away. After everything they'd been through, that status had been affirmed many times in the past.

_Are you sure?_

"You don't know Captain Bridger."

_It's not like I've had a lot of time to discuss game scores with him. _Her answer was short, but enough to cause him to blink. Somewhere he thought he detected a deeper meaning.

Then again, he just wasn't thinking straight much anymore.

-------------------------------------------------------

Bridger looked over the thin gold wire rim of his glasses at the insistent pounding on his cabin door. Placing his leather bound copy of J.R.R. Tolkien's Fellowship of the Ring, on the nightstand, he removed the reading glasses and stood. He knew he was getting old the minute he had to report to the optometrist to obtain these things. "Who is it?"

"It's Lucas," the voice sounded as urgent as the knock. "I really need to talk to you."

"Come in."

Lucas burst into the room, neglecting to shut the door, and not noticing the captain do it for him. "Are you all right?" By the way he appeared, Bridger thought that Lucas had just rolled out of bed.

"Yes. No," Lucas sighed. "I don't know, it's all happening so fast."

Bridger looked at the kid, who seemed to be on a caffeine high by the way he continually paced the quarters running his hands through his hair. "Whoa, whoa, slow down, Lucas. Take a breath and sit."

Lucas stopped pacing and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. "Captain, it's about Sam."

"She's all right. She's still in the med bay with Dr. Westphalen," he consoled, unsure of how he should feel concerning Lucas' sudden change in nature.

"No, no, you don't understand. She's here. I can hear her voice just as clearly as you can hear mine." Lucas looked at the captain. "I--I haven't figured out how it happened yet, but--but she's here."

Now the kid was making no sense. "How much sleep did you get last night?"

"This isn't about sleep!" Lucas came back. He sighed. "I'm sorry, captain."

Bridger forced the young man to sit on the bunk, then pulled out the desk chair so he was facing him. Lucas really looked confused and even a little bit scared. "Slow and easy, Lucas. What's on your mind?"

_Interesting way to put it_, Samantha quipped.

Lucas cleared his throat. "Sir, something happened when the VRN overloaded yesterday. Remember the power surge? Yes, of course you do. I'm not sure how--maybe caused by the surge in conjunction to the neural link, or prolonged exposure to the system--but she's here," he paused as if trying to accept the next sentence, "in my head."

All he got from Bridger was a raised eyebrow and a look of puzzlement. "In your head?"

Lucas felt himself sigh. He dropped his gaze for a moment, feeling that the captain may not believe him, then looked up. "I know, I know it sounds crazy, and it is, but it's true. Last night I had to fight my own arm to keep from turning the light off, and this morning I saw her face in the bathroom mirror."

"Did you win?" Bridger asked in a cool tone.

"Uh...no." Lucas felt himself blink. "Captain, you have to believe me. You know how I feel about Sam, you think I'd make up a story like this just for...for...some stupid reason I can't even come up with?"

_How do you feel about me?_ She waited a heart beat--his heart beat. _Lucas_.

Lucas ran his fingers through his hair, keeping his hand there as if it would silence her.

Samantha drew his hand back to his shoulder. He had really soft hair.

Bridger had to agree with the young genius. There was no reason to claim that the consciousness of a member of Westphalen's staff was stuck in his head. He was about to order Lucas to go sleep it off when he saw him biting his lip; A motion he'd hardly ever seen him do, but was a common habit of Sam's when she was worried, concentrating on her work, or her music. Bridger stood, his face layered with concern and worry. "I want you to go see Dr. Westphalen."

"You think I'm nuts, don't you," he said, looking up at the captain.

"I'm not sure what I think, but you've been working some long hours lately."

"I'm _not_ crazy, captain, I'm telling the truth, and she's..." Lucas felt a part of him being shoved to a corner of his mind, his eyes closing. That other tingle he'd felt surged forward beyond him and he now sat where it had been. He felt himself stand and speak, though he wasn't the one performing the actions. Samantha was. _Hey_!

Samantha opened his eyes and paced in front of the holographic projector, speaking with a deeper voice than she was accustomed to hearing. "Stress? Stress? Yeah, I guess it could be stress. But I was in the men's room today and no one noticed, and when I looked in the mirror, I saw his face instead of mine, and for the love of Mike, I've got a...a..." Sam stammered, then caught herself. "Sure. Stress. Right. Stress does _not do_ _this_!"

Bridger blinked. He'd just seen a complete role reversal. In the time he'd known the boy, Lucas had never said 'for the love of Mike.' Samantha's Celtic heritage sometimes gave her a small accent, and in the last part of that sentence, Lucas had been speaking with a very slight Scottish inflection.

Lucas took that pause to completely push the imposing consciousness to the back of his mind and gripped his head. "Don't _do_ that!" he yelled.

_I was doing you a favor_, her voice came like a vivid memory.

"Well, don't! I don't need any more favors." He rubbed his temples and exhaled heavily. "What did I do to tick off the gods this time?" He asked himself.

_Maybe you should ask, Luke._

"Don't call me Luke."

His mind made up, Captain Bridger activated the PAL. "Kristin, I'm coming down to med bay with Lucas. Be ready for anything."

"All right, Nathan," Westphalen's voice responded. "What's the matter?"

"It's complicated," Bridger looked at Lucas as he said this.

Lucas bit his lip.

-------------------------------------------------------

"He's in perfect health. Well, aside from the burns on his hand and the gash on his head. His system is still retaining trace amounts of the electricity he absorbed, but that's it. It should disappear within a day or so," Westphalen explained to Bridger as Lucas sat cross-legged on a med bed watching a nurse rewrap his injured hand and put a clean dressing on his forehead.

"You found nothing else wrong?" Bridger asked.

"No, not from the tests conducted. Why"

Bridger pulled Kristin away from where Lucas was so their conversation could be private. "Lucas says he's hearing voices."

"Voices?"

"Sam's voice," he noted the confused look on the doctor's face and continued. "He claims that Samantha is somehow living in his mind, and from what I witnessed in my quarters, I don't think he was lying."

Kristin looked to Lucas, then skeptically back to Nathan. "You actually believe this?"

"It was a convincing performance."

"Listen to what you're saying," Kristin glanced to Lucas quickly. "You're suggesting that two people--a boy and a girl--are surviving in the same body."

"Yes."

"Nathan, there are some things in this world that are odd but still accepted in science. This goes beyond any of that. It just isn't possible," she lowered her voice even more. "Samantha's still in a comatose state. The damage to her brain is extensive, but until I know for sure that it's completely irreparable, I'm not willing to believe without question that she's sharing a body with Lucas."

"Don't. Just look at the facts for me. That's all I ask."

Her eyes went to Lucas as the nurse finished with his hand.

"_Tapadh leibh_ Thank you," Lucas said absently as he examined the new bandage.

Westphalen shifted her weight to her left foot. Lucas didn't speak Gaelic. "I'll run an Electro Encephalograph. Get comfy. This might take a moment." Still not quite believing, she adjusted the elastic band holding her wavy red hair in a pony-tail at the nape of her neck, and went to find a nurse to give her a hand, along with the equipment necessary.

"Is she there?" Lucas asked once the captain was alone. He'd caught him looking at a corner of the med bay that was separated by curtains.

Bridger nodded and walked over to where Lucas was still sitting on the bed. "The damage is extensive, but Kristin's giving her the best care possible." He saw one of the young women from the science division walk behind the curtains. Lynn--a friend of Samantha's that she had worked with from Lab 4.

Lucas merely nodded in response, yet kept his eyes on the curtains. He could feel his pulse quicken.

"You all right, kiddo?" Bridger knew he didn't need to ask, but the question was ingrained in his psyche. It's just what you said to someone who wasn't well, even if you already knew the answer.

"Yeah," Lucas breathed. "Just weirded out, is all. This is something that should be out of the X-Files." His reference to a popular 1990's t.v series just seemed to fit in all its ancient glory.

Lucas looked from the direction of the curtains to the captain, and knew the fear he felt was Samantha's reaction, though don't ask him how. "She's afraid; I mean really afraid, Captain."

Nathan looked back, but for one of the few times in his life, he didn't know what to say.

A moment later, Westphalen came back with a nurse, and an EEG machine. "Lie down," she told Lucas, who complied. Kristin began placing electrodes on selective points of his forehead.

"What's going on?" Lucas asked.

_Oh, I don't like this. I don't like this at all._ Samantha was unable to fight for herself, and it left her open, vulnerable, and scared. She hated it.

Her uneasiness at this was clear, and Lucas could easily imagine her curling up her knees to her chest and hugging them. It didn't help he kept loosing control of separate parts of his body for short seconds.

"We're going to look at your brain waves and see if we can find any abnormalities," Kristin replied, starting up the EEG machine.

Lucas huffed lightly. _Hell of an abnormality._

_I heard that._

He sighed.

Kristin studied the information given by the medical equipment as Lucas lay there like a guinea pig under observation. "Hmm… that's odd."

"What?"

"What?"

_What?_ Lucas, Bridger, and Samantha asked simultaneously.

"Look at this," she pointed at a wavy line that looked like a frequency wave on a sound board. "This one here is Lucas' brain wave. But there's another one right here, sort of embedded inside it. Do you see?"

Bridger and Lucas tried to get a closer look.

"No, Lucas, don't move," Kristin ordered.

Lucas lay back, unhappy.

"Now, if what he claims is true..."

"I'm not making this up," Lucas interrupted.

"...we isolate that, bring up the data taken from Samantha's last medical exam and we should have a match." Kristin accessed Samantha's files and called the information she needed, then placed that in a separate window below Lucas'.

They made a perfect match.

"This is impossible," she mused. "Even the most advanced of psychics can't duplicate this to this extent, and Sam's not even psychic."

"See? I was right. Ha! Now do you believe me?" Lucas announced in a victorious tone. His vocal tone changed completely a moment later. "Is there anything you can do?"

Westphalen watched as the wave that represented Samantha's grew slightly, and Lucas' shrank the same amount. "Incredible. Each time one of them speaks--and I'm entertaining the notion that Sam's consciousness is indeed residing in his head--their brain waves switch places. Like taking turns."

Lucas didn't need expensive equipment to tell him Samantha had taken over his speech. He'd started spending his quiet moments in a hunt for her hiding place.

Bridger's PAL sounded in that moment of silence. "Excuse me." He walked to a private area of the med bay to take the call.

_Can you hear me?_ Samantha got no response, and repeated, though louder. _Kristin, can you hear me?!_

"Ah!" Ow! Lucas cringed. "Don't yell. She can't hear you."

Westphalen's confusion surfaced in a questioning expression, but she shook her head and sighed.

_Am I dead?_ Samantha quarried a bit slowly, apprehension edging her mental voice. Lucas repeated the question, only changing it from first person to third.

Kristin's scientific mind had to back down to allow the idea of what was presented to her to grow to a theory. Yet with Samantha's current condition as a coma patient, and Lucas suddenly knowing how to speak Gaelic, it was getting a little easier by the moment. "If Sam is as you say she is, then no, I don't believe she's dead. Not as long as she...remains in your body, Lucas."

Lucas felt supremely uncomfortable all of the sudden. "Can you get her out?" he pleaded.

The only answer she could think to give was one she knew would most likely make the boy even more uncomfortable than he already looked. So, she turned off the machine and removed the electrodes.

Samantha pushed her way forward so she could sit up, and swiped a swatch of Lucas' bangs out of his eyes. "Doctor, please. You have no idea what this is like. You've got to get me out of this."

Kristin sighed. Having nothing else to tell him, she thought of the safest words she could gather. "I'll try my hardest. In the meantime, I suggest you try to work something out."

"Work something out?" Lucas repeated, arching one eyebrow. _Is she serious?_ "Doc, _she's_ the one who invaded _me_!"

"Lucas, if _either_ of you are going to get through this with your sanity intact, you need to try to come to terms. Try to make it a little easier for both of you."

Lucas shrugged on his flannel and hopped off the bed, an unfavorable expression on his face. He felt his lungs expand and contract as Samantha sighed.

"Why don't you get something to eat?" Kristin suggested.

"I'm not hungry." As if on queue, his stomach growled.

_You liar. I'm starving_.

Lucas sighed with more than a little embarrassment, all laced with a ring of annoyance. He was no longer alone in his body's needs. He wanted to crawl into a cramped access port and seal the panel.

"I insist," Kristin pushed.

With that, he had no other alternative than to nod, and walked out of the med bay.

Westphalen was just putting away the EEG when Bridger approached her. "I worry about him most times," she stated.

Bridger nodded in total agreement with her. This kid was defiantly a contradiction in terms: a teenage genius. "Try to keep a little optimism, Kristin."

She smiled back at him before he, too, left her alone in the med bay with six other staff members. "I need a vacation."

tbc


	3. Chapter Three

**Three**

Bridger stood at the head of the long polished wooden table alone in the briefing room. The image of Admiral William Noyce filled the majority of the view screen, and his aged expression didn't look welcoming. He and Nathan Bridger had been friends for many Years since Bridger's days of teaching at the Academy, and both owed each other a line of favors that they'd call to collect every now and then.

"Bill. Nice to see you again."

"I wish this could be a courtesy call, but..." Noyce began.

"What's the news?"

Noyce took on the air of leadership and confidence that had been a main contributor to reaching his respected military status. "We've received some reports of a renegade sub transporting munitions to the pirate factions in the pacific."

"And let me guess; You want us to chase them down," Bridger wagered.

Noyce nodded once. "We need the best, Nathan." He'd always known how quick Nathan was at the game, and he'd no reason to doubt otherwise. Nathan Bridger had more than proven his worth time and time again. Even when he retired to that little island in the Yucatan, the UEO had made it a point to keep tabs on one of their most valuable assets. "We've been given a general location of the next transaction, but it's risky. We've already lost a patrol sub and three mini-subs to these madmen."

"How much time?"

"72 hours."

Bridger let out a breath. "72 hours. Gee, Bill, you didn't give us much of a window."

"We only received the communiqué a few hours ago. I'm sending you what intelligence we've gathered." As he spoke, an encoded message scrolled down the right side of the screen. "There's something else, Nathan."

Bridger arched an eyebrow. Somehow, he'd expected this.

"We lost those subs from a pervious convoy sent to intercept them. I'm afraid we may have a leak."

"A leak?" Bridger repeated, his attention piqued.

"It's the only way they could have known our position."

"Am I entitled to know when you found out about it?"

"A week ago from a coded transmission sent from the Stone Temple Colony."

Bridger furrowed his brow thoughtfully and walked around the right side of the table. "That was our last stop for supplies and personnel." He pointed a finger at Noyce's image. "I know what you're thinking, Bill, and don't tell me you think the leak is here."

"It's a possibility we have to consider. One of the personnel you picked up may be the leak. You know it's not impossible."

"It is on my boat," he responded in sharp defense.

"If he is there, then he might try something before, or even when you reach the rendezvous point."

"If he does, we'll just shoot and ask questions later." The humor was dry, if anything.

Noyce took serious note of Nathan's demeanor and knew this wasn't the normal joking he would pull. Something else was wrong, and it seemed to strike deep in his friend. "What's gotten into you, Nathan?"

Bridger thought he may as well tell him, as he trusted Noyce. "There's been an accident and two of my crew were hurt."

"Who?"

"Samantha and Lucas," Bridger relinquished.

"That girl Landsdowne sent you?"

"The same. She and Lucas were working on a science experiment when it happened."

"I'm sorry to hear that. They're good kids."

Bridger nodded, taking his friends sympathy as real. "We'll start the hunt for your leak and get under way immediately," he said, regaining his composer and silently berating himself for the unchecked display of emotion.

The admiral's face softened as he looked at his friend through the vidcom. "Be careful, Nathan."

Bridger knew that none of these hunt and capture crusades the UEO sent him on were ever easy, so he gave the admiral a reassuring grin. "We'll bring them home to you, Admiral. Bridger out."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucas picked absently at his hash browns. He'd eaten the eggs--to Samantha's distaste--and downed the orange juice, but at her request, he'd allowed himself a cup of coffee. He was never a coffee drinker before, and he couldn't see how she liked it. He always thought it smelled better than it tasted, and in this case he was right. The cook had made it thick enough to stand a fork in. And leave it there. Leaning on his elbows, he slowly sipped the black brew. The din of the morning breakfast rush had dulled to a low rumble of people sifting in and out of the mess hall, while most of the chatter came from a small table in the corner harboring three science personnel and an ensign.

_I wonder what they're talking about?_ Samantha mused.

_Hm. Don't care._ Lucas looked up...and froze in mid sip. For an instant, he thought he'd gone clinically nuts.

There she was, as clear as if she were actually sitting across from him at the table. Her head was propped on one hand, and she was staring at the other patrons in longing. He blinked, unsure of what to make of this.

He saw her look back at him and lower her hand. _What?_

Lucas swallowed. "Um, I can...see you." A surge of hope flared through him--that she had finally left--but he could still feel the tingle and that surge dwindled like a puff of smoke.

_No, I'm still here._ She wanted to scratch her neck, and as she though it, the image Lucas saw did the same. It must be your mind making sense of what's happened. It's created an image of me as a way of dealing with this so you won't go insane from a neural overload.

"Too much information--it makes sense." He looked around in case anyone else had noticed. "And it would also stand to reason that no one else can see you."

_Stands to reason. As far as they're concerned, I'm a figment of your imagination._ She was still adjusting to the oddity that was living as a part of Lucas Wolenczak, and wanted anything to distract her rather than dwell on their situation. Even eating had been an obstacle to get by.

Lucas ran his hand through his hair. "Great. Now I'm hallucinating."

Samantha's hallucination shrugged. _Could be worse._

"Not unless I start seeing flying monkeys, I don't see how," Lucas muttered, stuffing more hash browns into his mouth as someone walked by.

_This just started. I get all the thrills of living as you, but with no breaks._ She leaned back and folded her arms, then suddenly hacked. _Yuck! When did they start burning the hash browns?_

_They didn't_, Lucas thought as he chewed the food and held back her reflexive gag. _It always tasted like this._

_How can you eat this stuff?_ she cringed.

He swallowed. "Very carefully."

_It's like toxic waste._

"Yeah, well at least it's food."

_Barely. I recall them being more agreeable._

_You recall your own taste buds, too. [Note to self: get salt next time. Lots of it._

_This is not right. Nothing about this is right. I don't think I'll ever get use to this._ Samantha's head fell into her hands. _Please tell me you at least like chocolate._

Lucas nodded.

_Oh, thank God._

After only two hours of having someone else paired with his life, Lucas learned quickly that they shared the same sensory perception. She could hear, smell, taste, see, and feel everything he could. And it wasn't the most comfortable feeling in the world. Breakfast had been an event of eating as carefully as possible, but the occasional comment on the weirdness would crop up from both of them.

Lucas bit into the hash browns again and noticed how burnt they really _did_ taste. It brought on another thought. _Can you hear everything I'm thinking?_

_No, not unless you put it into words like you just did._

_Surface thoughts. Oh. Well, that's a relief_, he thought. He didn't want any more invasion of privacy than was necessary.

As it went both ways, Samantha couldn't agree more.

_Ugh… Lucas, drink something, please. I can't stand this._

He took a sip of coffee, which turned the taste to burnt charcoal.

_Can't have everything, I guess._ Her image straightened. _Uh-oh. Don't look up._

_Too late._

Ben Krieg sauntered over to the small table and set his tray down with a light clink, taking a seat right where Lucas had seen Samantha. "Hey, pal, where ya been? Ya look a little blue."

"I'm thinking," _Go away._ Lucas took a bite of the hash browns, noticing Samantha had materialized in the chair to his right.

"Thinkin' pretty deep there. I heard what happened to you and Sam." He saw the kid's face change from contemplative to intent surprise. "It's gotta be hard for ya," Ben added as he stuffed a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

"How do you know?" Lucas quickly asked. _How did he know that? There's no way he could have found out. No way._

Samantha continued to stare at Ben, looking for a vulnerable place to deck him, should the need arise. Lucas felt his left hand clench into a fist beneath the table.

"Come on, kid, the whole boat knows what happened." Ben's statement was as calm as if reporting the morning news.

Lucas paled as if someone had just signed his death warrant.

"Sam is a good kid. A little on the heated side, but most women are. Shame about that VR experiment though. I know Katie wanted to get her fingers in that pie." He took a slug of coffee. "You ok?"

Lucas took a larger gulp of the coffee than he'd intended, feeling the hot liquid burn all the way down. He coughed. "Yeah, Yeah, fine. Why you ask?"

"You, uh, look a little distracted."

"Distracted?" Crap. Uh, no, no. Just thinking about what went wrong and how to fix it." He wasn't lying, merely not telling the whole truth.

_You lie horribly._

Lucas shoved a forkful of hash browns in his mouth to keep from verbally responding to her. _Shut up, Sam._

"Well, we're all pullin' for her. Yup, she's one tough cookie," Ben reminisced as he finished off the eggs.

"You're just saying that because she refused to introduce you to her sorority the last time we were in Hawaii," Lucas chuckled.

Ben pointed his fork at the boy. "Hey, it was one lousy 'hi, how ya doin.' I didn't see the harm in a little chit-chat."

"And pinching Tiffany's butt was your way of saying hello?"

"She fell down."

"It was a volleyball game."

"Yeah, and come to think of it, how do you know about that? As I recall, I never told you," he shot an accusing stare, pasting on that famous smile of charm that could get almost anyone to talk. That's why he was so good as his business--whatever it was at the time he was also acting as the supply and morale officer.

"I, uh, I talked to Tim," Lucas covered.

"I never told Tim." His answer was so smooth, glass would be jealous.

Lucas floundered for an answer. He saw Samantha glance questioningly at him, and felt the shift in his mind. "Then, I must have heard it from Sam."

_I never told you that. Lucas, just how much access to me do you have?_ She realized that it was her memory he'd repeated, and she grew more demanding.

"Why would she talk to you about it? Scuttlebutt is that you hate her."

_You hate me?_ She felt a growing hurt despite how she'd always reacted to Lucas in the past.

"I was in the same room when she told Lynn. It couldn't be avoided," Lucas answered, his eyes shifting to the empty seat wherein the illusion sat.

"Hm. Right," Ben shoved another forkful of food in his mouth. "Anyway, I think you're right for not liking her. She's bossy, she pushes you around; you guys just butt heads too much."

"Well, she does kinda get on my nerves," Lucas agreed.

_You ass,_ Samantha clenched Lucas' fist harder. Lucas fought for control, banging his hand against the underside of the table. Quickly he hit the table top with his other hand to cover up the mistake.

Ben raised an eyebrow, but continued as if he hadn't noticed and picked up his coffee cup. "Just don't tell Katie about the Tiffany incident, ok?"

"Why?"

"She still has feelings for me."

"She doesn't love you, Ben."

"Oh, she'll deny it, but I know she still wants me. She can't resist me for long."

Lucas believed his friend was soothing himself more than anything. "Just keep tellin' yourself that. See ya later." He tossed the contents of his tray into the garbage and walked out of the galley.

_Thu umpaidh_! _You blockhead!_ Samantha screamed.

Lucas' head throbbed and he cringed. "Do you have to yell?"

_I've a right to,_ Her voice was as heated as the anger he felt from her. He saw her cross her arms.

_Whatever happened to working something out?_

_With someone you hate? That's a pretty strong word, Lucas. _she spat.

"I don't hate you." Someone passing by gave him a quizzical look, but he just grinned, then raised his eyebrows as they walked through Samantha--who seemed oblivious. _I never did._

_Then why did Krieg say it?_ The image he saw gestured angrily back at the galley, _It might as well be announced over the comm system._ He could feel her pacing the confines of his mind like a caged tiger, and as such, she paced in front of him.

_Yeah? So if rumors are true, then that means the hate is shared?_ He moved away from sight just in time to be slapped across the face by his own hand, sending him reeling. "Ow!"

_You're a hateful man, Lucas Daniel Wolenczak! I never hated you! You irritated the hell out of me, annoyed me, even made me laugh, but not enough to hate! And now I'm trapped in your body, forced to constantly live with you, and I find out that you told everyone you hated me and you can't even say you're sorry!?_ Samantha forced herself to ignore the stinging pain in Lucas' cheek and withdrew as far away from him as she could get.

Lucas felt like he wanted to split in half and bolt down the hall in opposing directions to the far corners of the globe.

Hot tears welled in his eyes--either from her swirling emotions or his own tingling face--and he closed them, getting for the first time a small image of Samantha in her civilian clothing curled up and hugging her knees in a round empty room with blue walls that coursed with electricity. She was crying. Yet as he'd finally found her hiding place--her way of dealing with this--he'd never before seen her cry. "Sam, I'm sorry," he uttered.

Lucas opened his eyes and leaned against Darwin's tube with a breath as a tear came despite forced efforts to blink it back. He felt horrible. So much had happened that it had them both treading that thin line of stress, cringing when it wavered. For her, that line had finally snapped.

Her voice came soft as a sad breeze. Just leave me alone, Wolenczak.

tbc


	4. Chapter four

**Four**

"Course is steady, captain," Officer Chen reported from his post at the helm.

"I'm not reading any unusual communications, sir. Just a fishing trawler, a couple of farming transports--local traffic," Lt. Tim O'Neill reported.

"Keep me informed," Bridger responded, knowing his communications officer was doing the best job he could. "Any news, Chief?" he turned to Chief Manilow Crocker, another of his old friends that he more than accepted on the _SeaQuest_ as her chief security officer. Though he should have retired this Year, Crocker took this chance to be with his first love--the sea. He was perhaps the only member of this crew who knew every sea chantey created by man, and could feel the moods of the ocean simply by smelling the salt air.

"Nothing yet, Cap. I've got my boys on it and if there's anything to find, they'll find it," Crocker answered, his hands clasped behind his back.

Bridger nodded. "I'm sure you'll turn up something." He gave his friend a friendly pat on the shoulder and left the bridge to the command of Jonathan Ford, who was more than willing, but far from taking it for himself.

Once the captain left, Tim turned to Miguel. "What's got the captain on edge?"

Miguel tapped his consol. "You know Sam was beginning to warm up to him, and then this happens."

"I know, but I don't think that's all of it." He and Sam had started a friendship because they were the only two people on board who could speak Gaelic, and because of that, had developed numerous inside jokes. "There's something else about this mission that he's not telling us."

"It's probably something we're not suppose to discuss," Miguel answered, looking back at Tim. "The last thing I need is to be reprimanded for sticking my nose in the UEO's private business." He'd already had that privilege a month ago when Ben had convinced him to use a WSKR as surveillance for yet another get-rich-quick scheme.

"Good point," Tim nodded with forced acceptance and went back to monitoring the communications lanes. He'd go see Sam on his break.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Somewhere in the bowels of the _SeaQuest_ DSV, a brown haired figure clothed in the uniform of a UEO officer sat scrunched under the same panel that had shocked Lucas the day before. Spirals of curly hair trailed along the side of his face to his chiseled jaw line.

Lt. Hitchcock called to the figure from above. "Try it now."

Ensign Jeffries flipped the switch and that portion of the main computer came back online. "It's working like a charm, Lt," he announced contentedly.

"Good job, Jeffries."

Jeffries scooted out from under the consol. "Not a problem. She'll run as slick as sweat on a doorknob." He closed the panel hatch and wiped his hands on the pant legs of his uniform. Replacing his tools in their proper places in his instrument kit, he left the computer core outlet with a tip of his regulation UEO issue baseball cap. "Ma'am."

Hitchcock shook her head amusingly at the Texan, and went back to the minute work of repairing the neural interface on the VR helm.

Hidden deep in the core panel, shaded by wires and placed within a small cubby space, a round silver object clung to the backside of a motherboard, blinking a single green light in ready for the moment its purpose would be fulfilled.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A silver streak cut through the sea water like a knife through butter in the spacious confines of the moon pool. The smooth shape of a bottlenose dolphin bobbed its head above the surface enough to take a breath of air, then sunk beneath the water again.

Lucas patted the water with his uninjured hand to call Darwin's attention and was rewarded by a bump from the dolphin's beak. "Hey, buddy." Lucas stroked the smooth rubbery melon. Ever since he had met Darwin, the two had bonded as friends, and it strengthened the more he worked with the vocorder. They were birds of a feather, Lucas would say, left floundering by their families only to be saved by Captain Bridger. Though Lucas' life was rarely in peril, he couldn't see now how being sent to the _SeaQuest_ would indeed save his life. In more ways than one.

"Lucas sad," Darwin's beak moved slightly. The vocorder responded to Darwin's clicks and whistles as it had been programmed to. Other than being beta software, it was doing its job in interpreting dolphin speech to a form understanding of human ears.

"Add that to being a little used and confused, Yeah, Darwin." Lucas always felt he could talk to the dolphin about anything, almost like one would a pet dog or cat. A true and loyal friend.

"Sam sick. Big fire in heart."

Lucas had to think a moment to decode the riddle. _[Note to self: update noun syntax. _"Yeah, the computer core was hit. Sam was caught in it."

"Sam ok?"

He wasn't sure how to explain the concept of mind/body sharing to a dolphin, so he decided to just leave it. "She's doing better. She's still in a coma, but the doc's going to take good care of her, so don't worry, all right, pal?" A part of him knew the comfort went to Samantha herself, though she hadn't spoken to him since the argument, and her image had disappeared from his sight. She'd been there only in her constant presence, which stayed a slight whisper in a far corner of his mind.

"Swim," the vocorder's tone matched the playful splashing. Lucas gave a small half-grin. Swimming was Darwin's solution to everything.

"Not now, Dar. Maybe later."

"Lucas swim. Sam swim," he insisted.

Lucas arched an eyebrow in question. "Sam's not here. She's in med bay, remember?"

"Sam and Lucas swim," the dolphin insisted. "Darwin see."

Lucas looked closely at the Dolphin's eyes, trying to see how he could know about their situation. "See what, Darwin?"

"Darwin see."

Samantha made Lucas blink as she watched where his eyes remained focused. His train of thought flew around her almost as if she could reach out and grab it. He hadn't bothered to keep it hidden as he had been trying to in the past few hours to give them both a sense of some privacy, but thinking around each other was a challenge just like everything else had been.

In an instant, he saw her beside him, leaning against the moon pool. _I think he can sense my presence, Lucas. I wouldn't put it past him._ She remembered Malcolm Landsdowne describing marine veterinary medicine as being "about as sophisticated as voodoo," and she'd attributed that to just about anything involving cetaceans.

Lucas could tell she was still pulled back into that far corner of his mind, but the images from her memory came as clear as if they'd been his own. "What-- Sam? You're saying you can sense her?" he repeated Samantha's thought.

"Sam, Lucas. Lucas, Sam. One." Darwin's beak bumped his hand again.

Lucas blinked, then exhaled. How does he do that? Somehow, Darwin had been able to detect Samantha. Maybe it happened through touch, or a sort of extra sensory perception, but it had Lucas stumped. "I don't know how you figured it out, but you're right," Lucas gave in and stroked the dolphin's forehead. If humans could ever fully understand the intricacies of a dolphin's mind, they'd be nothing short of gods. "I'm glad someone understands this."

"Darwin understand."

Lucas splashed water on the dolphin's head with a soft half-grin.

"Sam hear? See? Touch?" Darwin's innate curiosity about anything came through no matter where they were, or what was going on. By nature, dolphins were a curious species, and he was a prime example of the bottlenose sort.

Lucas nodded. "D: All of the above."

"Speak?"

"When she wants to, but she's a little upset with me right now."

"Why?"

"We had an argument."

"Argument?" the dolphin repeated curiously.

Lucas searched for the best way to describe it. "Uhm...a fight; an inside storm; a disagreement. She's not exactly thrilled to be me."

"Sam alive."

Darwin had a point. Sam was forced to realize this and pressed down her anger. Like it or not, Lucas had saved her life, and in not pushing her out of his body into oblivion, he'd reluctantly agreed to maintain her survival, though it meant giving up his own privacy in return. Suddenly, she felt like a parasite, though a humbled one.

Lucas felt her emerge forward again, taking over his speech. "We don't know if it can be fixed, but I am grateful to him."

"Sam swim."

Lucas saw his left hand reach down to untie his black sneakers, but he held it back.

_Please?_

He glanced up at the image of her looking down at him. For a moment, the two were at a stand still. The tone in her voice wasn't demanding like before; it was an honest request.

Feeling him holding her back, she allowed a private memory to creep into his consciousness. Lucas blinked at the vivid image of Samantha swimming alone in the moon pool with Darwin deep in the late recesses of the night when only a skeleton crew operated the boat for eight hours. He knew from this that she use to swim with the Caicos Key Dolphins as well. It's one of the few things that gives me peace, Lucas.

Taking a deep breath--"I'm gonna regret this,"--he nodded.

In an instant, he felt Samantha's energy surge through his system, and he retreated. He knew that he was allowing her to take complete control of his body, of all its movements, but she had convinced him she deserved at least that much time to be independent. So smooth was the shift in control, so cleanly they swept past each other, that the mergence of their two souls was as intense as a sunburn blasted with icy air. He inhaled, his sharp blue eyes closing. For that moment, he knew her and she knew him. Memories, emotions, experiences, likes and dislikes, all revealed as the shields between them fell. No more than a second later, Lucas found himself standing in what appeared to be a small circular room hued in blue with webs of electricity coursing along the walls. It wasn't real, he realized, but an image created to deal with only being a passenger.

The tingle he'd felt began to fade as he took to recovering from the total switch, which still felt like a calming adrenaline rush. He was still breathing, that was a good sign, but _he_ wasn't breathing. Samantha was. For the first time since the accident, he knew exactly how she'd felt, though to a lesser extent since he didn't have to get use to a new body, just a new personality living with him.

Samantha opened his eyes. "You still with me?"

He felt his mouth form the words, and from his small, imagined prison he spoke, though his lips ignored his commands. _Yeah, I'm still here. I haven't gone anywhere._ _Well,--not really._

Samantha took a testing breath, mostly to get use to being in the foreground again and examined his hands, turning them over and flexing in full control. Content, she slipped off the shoes and socks, and stepped barefoot into the moon pool. The water felt cool and welcoming to her/his skin, and she was more than willing to just let it take her away. She drew in a deep breath.

_The shirt, Sam._

She had to force balance to keep from falling in. "What? Oh no, I am not taking my shirt off," she objected, folding his arms. She was already standing waist high in the water.

_For one: it's my shirt. And for two: I don't see the problem._

"I'm a woman, Wolenczak," she argued.

_Not anymore._ He felt his cheeks flush and had to try very hard to keep from laughing. Even though she'd been a man for a day, she still reacted as a woman every time she was reminded of their reality, and he found a wicked humor in that.

"_Aisteach_," she cursed in Gaelic. Tugging off the blue plaid flannel and black t-shirt, she tossed it by the shoes and unwrapped the bandage around Lucas' right hand. Second degree burns covered most of his hand, and it still caused pain just to clench a fist. She knew the salt water would sting like a cut doused in alcohol, but in weighing the odds, she'd rather take her chances. She crouched slightly for a leap.

_Oh, this is going to hurt._ The thought had barely left his mind when Samantha dove under the water near Darwin. Quickly after, a searing pain shot through his hand and up his arm in near paralysis. "OW!"

Samantha screamed underwater, but held her breath and his hand, waiting for the endorphins to kick in. When all sense left his hand completely, Samantha surfaced for a breath of air. She felt Darwin bump by her legs and took off after the dolphin, swimming under the surface.

Darwin darted around her in a playful manner as she slipped into her old routine. She twisted through the water like a top. Lucas' body followed her commands easily, though didn't feel quite natural.

Only a few times did Lucas have to remind her to breathe. His lung capacity wasn't as resilient as hers, but she'd also had her own reason for that, and that she kept hidden even now.

She reached out and caught hold of Darwin's dorsal fin as he swam sideways by her and was towed along, the water pulling at his soaked jeans. The moon pool reached a depth of around eight feet toward the outer edge by the hatch leading to the ocean, and Darwin took him all the way to the bottom. Samantha didn't know how, but Darwin knew it was her in control, so he played as he had with her before. Samantha flipped around in the water, kicking to keep up with the dolphin.

For a moment, she hung suspended in the water, watching Darwin swim around her, then swam up for a breath of air. In an act worthy of water ballet, she leaned backwards, dipping beneath the water, spun, and barrel rolled with Darwin. Breaking the surface, she tossed her head, flinging water from Lucas' short blond hair, and chuckled.

She was totally at ease.

That is until she heard someone clapping.

Ben Krieg leaned on the edge of the moon pool, clapping lazily and watching Lucas with amusement.

"Ben!" she hollered with Lucas' voice, and attempted to cover his bare chest in a very angry, shocked, and feminine way. "You little pervert!"

"Is this a new thing?" he gestured at the surroundings, then to Lucas himself. "Cause some of the women may start to get jealous," he joked.

Samantha realized where she was and pealed his arms away from his chest. Despite the fact that all Ben could see was another guy, she couldn't stop the heat rising to his cheeks and blushed, then cleared his throat. "Don't you have somewhere else to be? Like a torpedo tube?"

Ben's response was light, semi-amused laughter. "Look, I could care less what you do in your spare time, twinkle toes, I just wanted to know if we were still on for tomorrow--Ya know, with Murry." There was more behind 'Murry' from the tone of his voice. Very secret agent stuff worthy of 007. "But it seems you're busy now. Maybe I'll just leave you to dance with the mermaids."

_Murry?_ Samantha quickly thought.

_One of his contacts,_ Lucas sighed irritably. _He wanted an encoded transmission sent tomorrow afternoon. And no, I don't ask why, I just program it._

Samantha blinked and cleared his throat. _Oh lovely. Accessory to a crime._ "Yes. I'll see you, uhm, later about Murry," she answered quickly, combing his hair back with his fingers and fighting the urge to cover her/his chest again. Lord knows she didn't need Ben knowing about the little accident.

Ben nodded and gave Lucas a thumbs up. When he started to leave, he turned and slid Lucas a glancing stare just as he saw the boy muttering something to himself. "Something's up, Luke. What's going on lately?"

_Don't call me Luke._

"Uhm, what do you mean?" she asked in the most calm voice she could find. She climbed out of the moon pool.

"You know what I mean; you acting funny all of the sudden, and I want to know what's going on." Ben's insistence grew and he walked back toward Lucas, who was busy putting his half soaked shirt back on.

Samantha felt Lucas stir uncomfortably, and it made her skin crawl. "I don't know what you're talking about. I've just had a long couple of days, that's all. Nothing's wrong, so go away already." She messed with Lucas' hair out of habit of fussing with her own.

Ben noticed. "That, for one, is not like you. Are you wimping out on me, Lucas?"

_No_. Lucas' answer was only heard by Sam.

"Ben, what part of 'Buzz off' don't you understand?" she retorted.

"The 'buzz' part. I could never get it right," he answered sarcastically. "Ya know, I'm not the only one who's noticed your changed behavior."

Ben, turn around and walk away.

"_Mollaght_!" she cursed between clenched teeth.

"Are you speaking Gaelic?" Both Ben's eyebrows migrated toward his hairline.

In the back of his own mind, Lucas groaned and buried his head in his hands.

Samantha searched for words to answer; any words (Lucas was no help), but all she got was, "I have to go. I have work to do," and brushed passed him, leaving his socks and shoes in a pile on the floor by the pool. His wet feet slapped against the floor grating as he escaped out the main hatch.

Ben Krieg was a smart man. A devious man. He knew how to get the dirt on someone, and he had more ways than one to go about doing it. Lucas had been acting more like a chick at times, sometimes fighting his own movements, correcting his speech frequently, speaking a nearly dead language, had been to the med bay twice today, and didn't object to being called 'Luke.' Something was defiantly amiss.

A crafty grin tugged at the edges of his lips.

He would find out what was going on. Oh yes. He would find out.

tbc


	5. Chapter Five

**Five**

_Day two_

Keeping away from taking control of Lucas' movements was growing progressively more difficult as he attempted to do simple things like walk, eat, use his hands, even speak. Lucas had to stop in mid stride on more than one occasion to push her back when his leg would lock up, or his hand would move without his thought to command it. Her automatic responses were making his life more difficult in measures.

The latest was when he stepped into the maglev and tried to push the button and sit down at the same time.

"Sam," he whispered.

_I always push the button first._

"It's got voice command."

_Call me old fashioned, but I like buttons._

He sighed, pushed the button for B deck –his quarters--, and sat down. The maglev took off like a soundless bullet through the ship. He stared at the door, trying to move as little as possible, and felt her cringe when he coughed, and he knew why.

"You haven't been right ever since I had to use the…"

_I don't want to talk about it._ She said curtly.

"You're making me feel guilty, and that's not fair. I'm Human. Human's use the restroom. It's a little problem we've had since the _dawn of time. _I really don't care if you're embarrassed."

The maglev doors opened and he stepped out, keeping some focus on her to ensure he wouldn't trip in the corridor. Left, right, left right, left, right…

_Stop_.

He halted, curious, and turned to stare at the door to her cabin amid the hall harboring the science personnel.

_I need to get a few things. Please humor me, Lucas. I left it unlocked._

Dr. Westphalen did say they should try to work something out. Complying, he pulled down the cold metal handle and pushed the door open to the dark void lit only by the slick watery light of Darwin's tube coursing along the far wall. He stepped down and closed the door.

She reached over and turned on the light for him. The room was surprisingly neat for the way she normally kept the lab she worked in. Whereas it was impossible to find anything lab 4, she knew where every scrap of paper and article of clothing resided in her personal space. The bed was made with a blue fleece blanket draped over a white issue comforter lumping over the bulge of the pillow. The only unkempt part was the half open closet door revealing most of her cloths hanging flush against each other tightly in the small cupboard. A full-length mirror hung on the wall across from the bunk in next to her narrow dresser flanking its left, and her guitar on the right.

"Clean," he mused, glancing around. This was the first time he had ever seen her room, and was surprised to find it lacking the throws of her usual lab disaster area. "I'm shocked."

_Everyone usualy is when they see it. They can't quite make the connection, and I usually get asked if they've got the right room. It was the same back at Caicos. …And no, I don't know why. It just is the way it is._

He stood for a moment in silence, then asked, "So, what am I doing here?"

_We can't live in two places at once, and I'm not about to give up my life just because I'm walking around in your shoes_. She took a step forward, fighting his resistance, and walked up to the bookshelf on the opposite wall. It took some persuasion, but he eventually allowed her to go about the room as she pleased, gathering up small trinkets and other items to haul back to his room in her UEO issue duffle bag. Mostly she packed books and minidisks along with her player (since his was so altered by personal modifications that she was afraid something on the ship would explode if she pushed the wrong button), and a couple of photographs of her family and college. Among other things were disks of information on current projects of Dr. Westphalen's, past workings at Caicos Key and the Hawaii Oceanographic Institute with large sticker labels reading "Don't record over me, you idiot" scribbled on them, and a couple of first person computer games. To Lucas relief, she had left her clothes alone, seeing as she wouldn't need them. It upset her that she was unable to wear anything identifiable with her personality since that would give away too much information to the rest of the crew. She felt as though she were in the witness protection program.

With everything she thought she'd need for the –hopefully short—time they would live like this, Lucas turned off the light, and carried the bulging duffle out into the hall, closing the door behind him.

He walked the long distance through the annex corridors to his quarters by the galley and walked in, tossing the duffle on the bed. The stark contrast between their living quarters would send any interior decorator into a spasming fit. Papers scuffed as he walked across the messy expanse to his computer desk, swiveled the chair around and taking a seat. The computer turned on in a flare of light, illuminating her ghostly apparition in the monitor.

_You're working now?_

"Yes. Some of us actually have work to do." A black screen popped up, and he filled it with indecipherable coding. It brought up a larger window with two text boxes, a graphical representation, and the coding next to it. Chief Crocker had asked him for the update to the ships security sensors in the docking bay to be completed by Friday, and it was already Thursday afternoon.

She watched the coding pile up as he typed at a faster speed than a normal typist, dragging out equations that would make Einstein proud. The graph shifted continuously with his commands, and she watched, taking it in and riding the tide of his thoughts. She'd watched him work in the lab before, and wondered just how he managed to finish something in an hour that normally took her three, and any of the other staff, two days to complete. Now it was apparent as numbers whirled around her like fireflies, melding with sparks of images that lived and died in the initial inhale of a breath, that his thinking process was more complex than she'd initially been subject to.

Three hours later, he stopped and read over the last few lines of coding. "What the…" He scrolled back and sure enough, found more lines in between his work that read, "Hey stupid." "Blink, dork." And just for humor, saw in between the lines reading downwards, "This…box…is…not…a…winner."

She chuckled in a thought. _You're too easy_.

"Sam." He sighed in exasperation and deleted all the extraneous text until he reached the last one and paused. Amid the series (zx178k.Cm2 -8 90/34) lived the words. "Eat Now." Between the Cm2 and the -8.

He blinked. When had he typed that?

_You didn't. You were on codec line 565 at the time. That's 545. And I mean it._

It seemed impossible, but he'd forgotten she was even there. He cleared his throat and glanced around for some water.

_Go by med bay first._

"Why?" He stood, popped his shoulders and rubbed a crimp in his neck.

_I need something that I…I was carrying_.

"Now?"

She took over enough to walk to the door before he caught on.

"Ok, ok. Warn me next time, will ya?" He pulled open the hatch and wandered out into the hall. They reached the entrance to Med Bay a few minutes later. What do you want?

_My necklace._

That meant crossing the threshold into the only area on this boat he was hesitant to tread. He bit his lip and walked inside, stopping just feet from the door. Nurse Ellen walked up with a beaker in one hand and a pair of goggles perched on her head.

"Yes, Lucas? It's too early for your check-up. Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine," he lied. "I need something. Can you get Dr. Westphalen?"

"Sure." Without another word, she walked out of sight around the corner. He stayed glued to the spot until, moments later, Dr. Westphalen appeared, straightening her ponytail and repeated Nurse Ellen's question. He told her what he wanted, and wasn't surprised when she blinked in confusion.

"You want her necklace."

"No, _I _don't. _She_ does."

"Are you sure about this?"

He nodded. "But I can't… can't go back there. Not yet. Can you get it?"

When the meter of his voice changed, Kristin guessed he was involved in a difficult internal struggle. "Wait here," she said, and walked to the back of the medical bay. The glint of the silver dolphin ring swaying languidly from its slim chain when she returned distracted him immediately. He took it from her, thanked her, the left without any more explanation. He slipped it over his head and tucked it under his shirt as he walked to the galley for dinner. The satisfaction from Samantha in thanks made him smile slightly.

-----------------------------------

UEO regulations state that a skeleton crew is allowed to run the boat during peace-time, and routine scientific scouting during the hours of 10pm to 6am. Since they were still barreling through the water toward the pacific, there wasn't much to do but wait until they reached their destination. As such, the ship was essentially devoid of life.

She stood barefoot in front of the mirror staring at the masculine features of her reflection late that night. A few minutes before, she had been lying in Lucas' bed in a pair of flannel pajama pants and a loose white t-shirt. He'd fallen asleep rather quickly after finishing Chief Crocker's security update, but such bliss in slumber eluded her. She'd sat up, careful not to wake him, and left his room to walk the empty hall. Thankful for a sparse night crew, she was positive no one had seen Lucas go into her quarters and close the door.

Now she faced him the only way she could.

Samantha pulled the shirt off and draped it over the top of the guitar case. She stared at the half clothed form of Lucas watching her from its confines of the mirror world. For a moment, she thought she saw the flicker of her own image within his pupils, but shook it off as just fatigue. _This is me, _she told herself. She watched the subtle rise and fall of his chest for a moment, focusing on its hypnotic sound and rhythm. The dolphin ring rested near his heart and was warm to the touch. If she was going to do this, she'd better get to it.

With a deep breath, Samantha lifted Lucas' left hand and drew two fingers of his right down his palm slowly and his wrist, feeling the tactile surface of his skin tingle from the pressure. She followed the form of each line, each long finger, tracing along the bumps and lines of joints, and over the bitten off rounds of his fingernails. She flexed his hand, then moved on. Down along the length of his arm she drew, methodically examining the muscles, bumps of vein, and bone threading his arm. His fingers traced up to his shoulder as she curled his arm to form a risen bicep, then down the muscle, twisting his arm to view every angle. Despite his wraithlike appearance, it was surprisingly firm, albeit less substantial than that of the older crewmembers.

When he had allowed her to swim with Darwin the day before, she'd pretended it was with her own arms and legs, and was able to move with relative ease. It was regretfully short lived. Now that he slept, she aimed to gain some of that back.

She relaxed his arm and watched her image as his right hand trailed across his clavicle and up his neck, lingering at the pulse in the jugular; proof that she was still alive. His chin was next, followed gradually by the curve of his lips, the line of his jaw to his cheekbone, and with both hands touched every part of his face, focusing her thoughts on its placement, its movement, and its feel. His hand passed over the skin where facial hair would soon grow, and ran his tongue along the surface of his teeth. She could still taste what he'd had for dinner on the rough roof of his mouth regardless of the toothpaste aftertaste, and swallowed. For the first time, that felt normal and not freakishly strange. She'd had a lifetime to become accustomed to her body, but had been thrown into his at a millisecond's notice.

She moved to his hair, running his fingers through the full blond locks and pulling down thick bunches at a time in front of his eyes to feel how it affected his scalp. It bounced back into place when she let go, and she brushed its soft thickness away from her sight. The back of his neck came next, taking in its texture and feel of tired muscles from the day, and to his ears, feeling along their lines, then back around to his nose, gliding his finger down the straight bridge to the slight button end.

This was the first time she'd been able to put all of her attention into the details of the body she now wore as her own. It was an interesting experiment of acclimation to an entirely new world reflected in the glass.

She had placed the flat of his right palm over his heart to feel its beat when the tingle that was Lucas's awareness emerged slowly from sleep. He blinked, looking into the mirror at his bare chest and hand cupping his heart, more than confused. He was in Samantha's quarters –recognized by the cleanliness of the space—but why he was here, and why he was half-naked were of more concern. He whispered, licking his lips, "What are you doing?"

_I'm mapping you_.

"Mapping me?"

She turned his hand up so he was looking at his palm. I_ don't know this. I'm disoriented, uncomfortable, terrified, and embarrassed because I don't know any of this._ She watched his reflection and the soft light of the single lamp on his skin, and spoke. "If I'm going to be here for even another hour, I need to know; I need to learn about you, to be more comfortable with where I am. Maybe then I won't feel so…dead."

He looked up, seeing her standing beside him in the same position, palm up, staring forward. _How far did you get?_ he thought worriedly.

_Your arms, face, and neck. Don't worry. I was going to keep it PG. I don't like you_ that _much_. she whispered.

Lucas stared back at the mirror, seeing her phantom reflection look away. He understood then that she hadn't meant to wake him up, that she wanted to do this and go back to bed to save him from the discomfort of tactile perception of his own body through a hand commanded by another, and now she felt ashamed for her actions. "I'm sorry. I'll stop."

First and foremost, he was a scientist. The laws were clear to him, as were the methods of knowledge and ways of obtaining that knowledge. Children learned first through touch and taste. In essence, that's what he sensed here. But…

He searched her surface thoughts and feelings for any questionable red flags as to her intentions, but found only honesty. She had meant it, and felt some tension released in the areas she had already mapped.

He placed his hand back over his heart where she'd stopped, and to her surprise, let her have control over it again. "I can't go back to sleep now, but...if you need to continue, go ahead. Just keep your word on the PG promise."

Her stunned silence shocked through him. _Are…are you…serious_?

He reluctantly nodded. "Until we can find a way out of this, we need to coexist. And with the way things have been going, that hasn't been working out so well. If this helps, then…" he exhaled, feeling foolish, exposed, and vulnerable.

For a while, he stood there, hand over his heart, feeling its beat. The battle of ethics waged through her and he wondered if she was going to do anything at all.

Then his hand inched gradually down the crease of his abdomen to his stomach, where it stopped at his belly button, crossed to the left of his ribcage, then to the right. His reflection showed every movement, and he inhaled, weirded out by this, but –as a scientist—understanding her need to gain familiarity.

She crouched down and sat, setting his right foot over his left thigh and examined it with the eyes of his fingers. He chuckled when she drew them along the sole of his foot, remembering the fact that he was ticklish. She did the same to his left foot, ankle, and leg up to the knee, then stopped and stood, the hem of the plaid flannel pants bunching at his ankles.

"I think I'm all right, now." she whispered with his voice, clutching the dolphin ring necklace like a sacred totem.

He exhaled. "Lets not mention this to anyone."

_No problem._

He picked the shirt off the guitar case and slipped it over his head. That basic motion was much less hindered now than it had been this evening when he'd crawled into bed. This little lesson in his anatomy had already been put to use.

He left her quarters and walked through the halls to his. When he reached it, he flopped down on the bunk and glanced to the right where she sat on the floor in the middle of a shirt pile and papers. "You ok?"

She looked back at him, smiled, and softly said, _Yea. Yea, for the first time I believe I am. It was weird, but it helped. What about you?_

"Disturbed." He stared at the ceiling and felt her blink. "Thinking some therapy will result from our situation."

She chuckled lightly, and he knew she agreed. Silence held between them for a moment where she listened to his breathing, and lived amid the cyclone of thoughts when he closed his eyes regarding the next project: an eight sided Rubix cube Wolfman was inventing called a 'Ruboc.' _You didn't have to let me continue, you know_.

"I know." Yet she needed to, and if it helped them conserve what little sanity he had left, then so be it.

-----------------------------------

The comlink beeped once; a confirmation that the transmission had gone through without being monitored by the communications system, or O'Neill's watchful eyes.

Ensign Jeffries sat at a metal desk, a small personal view screen inches from the edge, and peered at the unshaven face of a thirty-seven year old man wearing hand-me-down military fatigues from the Gulf War back in 1991. The man in return stared back with cold, hard features. His face was boxy, harboring a slim, straight nose, round brown eyes, and a scruffy beard that looked like a light brown version of Sean Connery's. Jeffries could sense the aura of forced respect creep into his being from the mere sight of the man.

Colonel Eric Corvain was responsible for the coordination and cooperation of the few pirate factions claiming the mid-central Pacific waters as their own territory like a street gang in South Central L.A--a powerful street gang. He had been appointed the leader of this faction five Years ago after a challenge had been made to the previous man in charge. Corvain had come out of the knife fight with a nasty slice down his right cheek, which he wore now as a battle scar, but his opponent, however, hadn't been quite so lucky. Corvain had done quickly to slice the man a new navel, therefore proving his worth to take over as Prime leader for the faction known as "Winter's Raid." It was the most basic of primitive male rituals: Only the strong survive.

"I assume the mission has been conducted as planned?" Corvain said through a cool tenor voice.

Jeffries nodded once. "Aye, sir. The _SeaQuest_ is due to arrive at the rendezvous point within the next four days."

"And the chip?"

"Implanted as per your orders, sir. The _SeaQuest_ won't know what hit her," he answered with a show of pride at his accomplishment. Not only had he been able to infiltrate the UEO three weeks ago, and gain access to her flagship's inner systems, but Lt. Hitchcock had chosen him as one of her team to figure out the malfunction in the VRN system. It gave him the perfect opportunity he needed. "The system schematics will be yours within the hour, sir, and I can assure you they are completed."

"They've already tested it?"

"Yes, and it worked, but there was an accident with the woman testing it, sir. She was knocked unconscious. We've been looking for the reason why and so far all we can come up with is a bad connection to the neural interface."

"Do they really know the cause?" Corvain asked in a sly manner.

"No sir," Jeffries grinned despite himself. "They still blame it on the power surge." Sabotage was a sweat game. Much like vengeance, it tasted better cold.

Corvain reached up to stroke the rough scar on his cheek pensively. "Captain Bridger once taught back at the Academy that to gain the cheese, you must outsmart the mousetrap. And to catch the mouse, you must build a better mouse trap." His lips curled into a sneer as a look of deliberate malice crossed his face and the secret transmission ended.

-----------------------------------

_Two days later..._

"Now, Lucas, I want you to concentrate," Dr. Levin calmly instructed the boy sitting cross-legged on a meditation mat on the floor of his quarters. "Find the energy that belongs to Samantha, and isolate it as best you can."

Lucas sighed, nodded, and closed his eyes.

He'd come to Dr. Levin at the request of Dr. Westphalen as a way to become more in touch with Samantha, and to remove her if possible. He was hoping more for the latter. As much as he was sure none of this paranormal mumbo-jumbo actually existed, let alone worked, trying everything to get her out of his head entitled just that--trying everything.

Dr. Levin watched him with intent brown eyes. A white pillar candle stood on a twisted rot iron stand between them meant to evoke the wandering spirit and call it into harmony. The room was lit by the help of numerous other scattered candles, along with a burning incense stick and calming music set to a soft level. It was an odd décor for a submarine cabin.

He had also noticed a slight glint the candle light created from a small silvery object dangling by a silver chain around Lucas' neck, and recognized it as the dolphin ring that Samantha had worn everyday since he had known her--which was when she had begun to call the _SeaQuest_ her home. By wearing her necklace, Lucas was showing to Levin that he was willing to cooperate with the second essence harbored with him in the protection of his body.

When presented with this unusual case about Lucas and Sam, he'd been intrigued from the beginning. Besides being a member of Westphalen's science staff, he had his hobbies in the paranormal: ghosts, psychics, UFO's, myths and legends, and general things that mystify modern science. He was their resident paranormal guru. He'd viewed Lucas' predicament as being nothing short of an enigma that he was more than happy to try and solve, and it gave the thirty-year old man something else to do besides monitor the progress of one of the sponges in Lab 2.

Lucas sighed, shifting on his pad. "Are you sure that stuff is suppose to work?" He gestured at the ornamentation around the room. Samantha's image sat next to him. "I mean, what's the deal with that?"

"The 'deal,' is that the candles and incense help to calm you. It's believed in some cultures that if a soul cannot travel to the afterlife, it seeks out the person closest to them--whether in friendship, family, auric similarity, or even vicinity--and remains with them until they can either be reincarnated, or escorted to the afterlife. It's rare, but not unheard of."

Lucas answered hesitantly, glancing quickly to Samantha. "Ok."

_Rare, as in impossible-rare, or what? Why him?_ Though she was speaking to Dr. Levin, Lucas only relayed one question.

"Why me?"

"Why not?" Dr. Levin shrugged. "It could be anything from age, to similarities, to just being at the right place at the right time."

Lucas harrumphed. "If I click my heels together three times will she go home?"

Samantha chuckled.

It brought a smirk from Dr. Levin. "The ritual may help her leave your body, Lucas. Now, close your eyes and concentrate."

_I hope he knows what he's doing._ Samantha's image watched. She took a preparatory breath through Lucas.

Lucas closed his eyes and did as he was told, trying hard to push back the sense of embarrassment and skepticism. He was more a scientist than a dreamer.

Seeing the young man's face turn from concentrated to near peaceful, Dr. Levin proceeded to speak softly and slowly. "Once you've found her energy, focus it into one point at your chest. Start from your feet and hands, work through your arms, legs, back, up your neck, and finally to your eyes."

Lucas swallowed as he felt Samantha stir in his mind. He grabbed all the pieces that were a part of her, and felt the tingle intensify sharply. It was like nothing he'd ever felt. Thousands of pins were pricking his skin simultaneously. He flinched. He had to do something with it soon. Quickly he opened his eyes, swayed back and forth, then lurched forward as if his soul had convulsed, pushing Samantha out of his body.

The beat of his heart faded as she was shoved, ripped from Lucas until she was facing him from the outside--really from the outside and not his hallucination. She smiled, grateful for the new sense of freedom, but she was transparent. She looked over herself curiously, then up to Dr. Levin and Lucas, who were both staring at her. "It worked. It actually worked."

Lucas reveled in the silence and space of being himself again, but something else was tugging at him as well; something bordering on incompleteness. "How'd you do that?"

"You did it," Dr. Levin answered in between writing in his journal he kept for paranormal phenomenon. "You only needed to be shown the way. Not many people have the ability to retain another soul and not immediately reject them."

"So why didn't he?" Samantha asked, putting a hand on her hip and gesturing to Lucas with the other.

"He didn't know how until now. That and the fact that both of you were unconscious could account for it. Believe it or not, what you've done is a gift, Lucas."

"A gift?" Lucas looked from Samantha to Dr. Levin, and back to Samantha again. He wasn't so sure he wanted a gift that would just let another person's spirit share his body, and it made him uneasy to think about what would happen if the word ever got out that he could do this. "So get her back to her own body already."

Dr. Levin flipped through one of his many books that lined numerous shelves along his walls, and paused at the middle of it. "I can't."

Lucas stared at him. "No. No, no, I'm not accepting that as an answer. There has to be a way."

"There is, but I'm not the one to help," Levin resigned, closing the book.

"Then who is?" Lucas' tone was low.

"Someone with a broader knowledge of the human soul; a psychic maybe." Levin set the book down and looked up. "I can tell you what I do know. Most cultures believe it requires eye contact for transfer, and you have to willingly push her in order for her to return. Also she has to be willing to go. Most cases I've read about never get that far, or require a second party to assist so the soul in question doesn't become lost."

"That's it?" Samantha and Lucas said in unison.

"Apparently. Don't be fooled. It's not as easy as it sounds. If it were, these documented cases would have alternate endings."

"All right, so how come I feel strange?" she asked. She felt light headed. "Dr. Levin, what's going on?"

Lucas and Levin both saw that Samantha was beginning to fade and she was becoming more and more translucent. "What's happening to her?" Lucas' voice held more worry than he meant to emit.

Levin's voice wasn't as comforting. "She's fading. Crossing over."

"_What_?" Lucas exclaimed, jerking sharply toward Levin. "Do something!"

Samantha's eyes widened with fear.

He turned to the shock stricken teenager. "Take her back, Lucas," he said simply.

Lucas took a double take. "Are you _nuts_? Why can't she..."

"Her body isn't repaired yet and she'll move on if her energy can not be contained," Dr. Levin answered smoothly. "Take her back."

Lucas hesitated, grasping each moment of freedom and peace that he could. His eyes darted from Samantha's ghost, to Levin, and back again.

"You're the only one who can. She's going to die, Lucas," Levin's voice started to harbor the hints of command.

Samantha saw the world around her begin to blur. Shapes became fuzzy, and the air started to shimmer slightly in a sparkle she could see, like just before blacking out. Fear began rising from the pit of her stomach. She felt a tingle rush through her that continued to gain in strength. "Lucas..." she choked.

"It's the only way."

Lucas bit his lip before standing and reaching out to touch her. "I'm going to regret this." He knew what he was doing, and he would have turned tail and run if he could, but that was before the accident had happened. That was before he was forced to know her. And now he knew he'd never hated her, and that he actually didn't mind having her around.

Samantha's small, iridescent hand passed through his and their eyes locked, green to blue. It took no more than a second, but in that time, she felt herself being pulled though Lucas' eyes, through his arms and legs like a shock of electricity, until she slammed violently to the back of his mind. She felt him buckle as he tried to push her out again, and was afraid he would, until she sensed something different. He was holding on to her.

Lucas gasped, shuddering the inhaled breath, lurched forward, wavered, then fell to the floor half conscious.

Dr. Levin quickly knelt by Lucas, checking his breathing, then his pulse and finding it quicken, then level out. "Levin to med bay. Medical emergency in my quarters."

-----------------------------------

"Sir, we're approaching the rendezvous point," Commander Ford announced, dark hands clasped behind his back.

Bridger stood beside Ford on the bridge of the _SeaQuest_, mentally preparing himself in case a physical battle was necessary. "Good. Activate targeting grids and ready torpedo tubes 2 and 4."

"Activating targeting grids. Tubes 2 and 4 ready, Captain."

"Give me eyes, Mr. Ortiz," Ford ordered.

"Aye, sir," Miguel complied, bringing up Junior's visual data on the front view screen. "Sir, I'm detecting three ships in the vicinity. All warrior class. Their tubes are open and flooded."

Bridger nodded. That was the correct number that Noyce's intelligence had given him, and they were all right on time. "Hail them." He waited half a second, for he knew that's all the time Tim O'Neill would need to open a comm. channel. "This is Captain Nathan Bridger of the UEO vessel, _SeaQuest_. Stand down or we will be forced to open fire."

"I'm getting no response, sir," Tim's fingers rested on the ear piece of his headset.

"Their weapons are still hot."

"Commander, target their propulsion, but don't fire. Not yet."

"Aye, sir."

"Doctor to the Captain," the comm. system sounded to an urgent, yet calm British voice.

"This isn't the best time to be calling, doctor."

"If I knew what was going on, I'd probably agree. I thought you might like to know that Lucas is down here and he's been asking for you--rather insistently."

In the background, Bridger could make out the sounds of a scuffle, trays hitting the floor, people hollering, and someone yelling to be released. It sounded like Lucas. "If you get a chance, come down here before he hurts himself," Someone in the background dropped a tin of utensils and hollered, "or one of the staff."

Bridger silently cursed his misfortune. "I'll be there when I can, just do your best, doctor."

"He won't like it," she said, then signed off.

-----------------------------------

Jeffries stuffed his duffel bag into the cargo compartment of the sea launch MR-7. So security wouldn't prod him about being down here the day before, he'd given them the excuse that someone had complained about the navigational system malfunctioning, and he was taking a look at it. It had gone over smoother than marshmallow cream on a waxed linoleum floor.

Strapping himself into the pilot's seat, he waited until the clock struck one p.m.. One minute from now.

-----------------------------------

Lucas fought the grips of Westphalen's medical staff as they struggled to hold him down on the med bed. "Let me go! I have to talk to the captain! Kristin, it's important!" He struggled. "_Let go of me_!" he shouted in Gaelic, nailing an officer in the chin with his foot. "_Get off me_!"

"Hold him down!" Kristin hastily loaded a syringe with thorazine and jammed it in Lucas' right leg.

Lucas flinched as the needle pierced his skin. It wasn't long before his movements slowed, becoming sluggish as he unwillingly gave in to the power of the drug.

Samantha saw Lucas' vision blur and surrendered. Her image slumped down beside the bed and leaned heavily against it.

After they'd woken up, she'd taken control and fought the medics in Levin's quarters, insisting that she needed to get to the captain, but they wouldn't allow her to leave. She and Lucas had had a brief battle where she'd won, then made a break for it. The medics had to forcefully hold Lucas back and drag him to sick bay, where the whole charade began again. She had overreacted, she knew that, but it was a crisis to her. As far as she knew--with no other body, and her own close to irreparable--she was trapped, and it frightened her. _Lucas, I'm sorry. I ...I...didn't know what I was thinking_.

"I do. You panicked!" he said as he looked at where he saw her lying on the end of the bed, regaining control and taking a few deep breaths. "Don't do it again, or I'm going to loose whatever's left of my mind."

_I promise_, she exhaled. The thorazine was starting to take effect now.

Kristin had just taken a breath of relief when the ship bucked to the side, throwing her of balance. "What the blazes?" Another shot struck the ship harder this time, causing the lights to flicker. "That was a depth charge," she muttered in shock. "Everyone stay calm! Grab hold of something bolted down!"

"Kristin?" Lucas lolled his head to the left. "I'm sorry. Samantha, she..."

"It's all right, Lucas, it's all right," Kristin clung to the med bed Lucas lay on. She gripped his left hand in comfort for both of them. "Stay right here and don't move."

"I don't think that'll be a problem," Lucas answered groggily.

Kristin patted his hand and hurried off to the rest of her staff. As Chief Medical officer, she was versed in the emergency procedure for an attack, and luckily for her, everyone else had read that part of the homework assignment as well, but it was still up to her to make sure everyone knew what they were doing.

Lucas gripped the sides of the bed as another shot racked through the _SeaQuest_ in a blast loud enough to make his ears ring.

-----------------------------------

"Captain, I'm intercepting a message from the surface ship," O'Neill reported, then relayed the message, reading the computer's quick decipher. "Clearance is a go. The mouse took the cheese."

"It's a trap." A hard lump of coal settled in the bottom of Bridger's stomach. There indeed was a leak. And he'd made his objective known.

"Counter measures!" Bridger ordered. "Fire tubes 5 and 9!"

"Firing 5 and 9, sir." Two pulses sounded. "The counter measures intercepted two torpedoes from the port sub, but the other two are moving into an attack position." Miguel steadied himself by his work station as another depth charge struck close to the Starboard side. One of his WSKR screens went dead. He cursed.

"Commander, evasive maneuvers. Close that hatch," he ordered. Commander Ford took control of a navigation chair while the hatch to Darwin's pool sealed off the rest of the sea water from spilling over onto the deck. "Sound 'general quarters.'" A two toned alarm went off through out the entire ship. The crewmen immediately headed it and hurried as fast as they could to their quarters and stations.

Miguel watched yet another WSKR wink out, then another until all that was left was a view screen of snow. "Four WSKR links are down, sir," he said. He didn't bother hiding the anger that fired through his voice.

"They're trying to blind us," Bridger realized. He knew full well that the WSKRs were extensions of their own on board sensors, but it was still a low blow.

"Two direct hits on the port sub, captain. It's breaking away," Miguel's voice held a sigh of relief, light enough to be noticed as just a breath. For a moment. "Sir, the two remaining subs are closing in. They're firing simultaneously," he announced quickly.

"Brace for impact!" Bridger ordered. A moment later, four torpedoes slammed into the port and starboard sides of the _SeaQuest_. The ship quaked like an earth tremor and knocked everyone off balance.

"Sir, there's been a security breech in shuttle bay 3," O'Neill relayed.

"Who was it?"

"Unknown, sir."

The leak. "Target the shuttle's propulsion and fire," his voice was sharp as a blade as a wave of anger swept through him. His boat had been compromised. A part of him wanted the torpedo to destroy the shuttle, to kill the man through decompression faster than he could blink, but it would be a too quick death for someone who had made the security questionable on the UEO's flagship. _His_ ship.

The screen flashed to a view of the shuttle just as a torpedo sped through the water and slammed into the backside of the small craft. It lurched to the side, sputtered, then drifted dead in the water.

"Sir," O'Neill called out from his station, "the two subs are reconvening."

"Commander, evasive maneuvers," Bridger ordered. "Come about four-one-four. Get them off our sides and send a torpedo spread. Tubes 2 and 4 aft, and 5 and 7 stern."

"Aye sir," Commander Ford answered without question. The four torpedoes sped through the water like bullets, only with homing beacons. The two enemy subs veered off just as the _SeaQuest_ sent the barrage, and only three made an impact. Simultaneously, they pulled through the water, aiming their blunt, dark noses away from the _SeaQuest_. They way they moved was like someone had placed them together on a game of battleship--the deadly brothers.

"Direct hits on three torpedoes. They're breaking off, sir," O'Neill allowed a sense of relief to seep into his voice.

-----------------------------------

In the depths of the _SeaQuest_, within a mass of collected wires and motherboards, resting snugly in the dark recess of the access panel to the VR system of the computer core, the lone chip blinked green once--twice--three times. Then shifted to red.

The _SeaQuest_ heaved, shuddering from the inside out as a shock wave swept through the ship with the force of Thor's hammer. The damage wasn't so much in explosive as it was in ionic. Panel after panel of lights winked out from the massive overload, some exploding, knocking back the crew members manning them and sending sparks and shards of equipment spewing outward in a reckless course. The _SeaQuest_ went black.

-----------------------------------

Lucas sat up, his head spinning from the thorazine and his equilibrium off balance. The blast nearly threw him out of the bed, and the shock of the sudden darkness sent a chill up his spine.

Samantha's image did fall out of bed and she felt like she wanted to throw up, then realized it was him.

-----------------------------------

Bridger knew that was no impact from a depth charge or torpedo. Emergency power came online, bathing the bridge in a dull red glow and the stations lit up with dim yellow lights that further made the room feel like a refugee station. Nathan Bridger regained his footing and stood with one hand on the dark navigation sphere. "Is everyone all right?"

He got scattered forms of a confirmation from around the bridge.

"Navigation is on minimal power only, sir, and we've lost weapons," Ford reported.

Katherine Hitchcock pulled herself back into her seat where she'd been thrown to the ground. "The system overloaded. My screen is dead, sir."

This was more a nightmare than reality. Those two warrior subs had managed to disable the UEO's best, and they'd done it with near impossible synchronization and nearly no delay time. And he was sure they weren't about to stop now that the prey had been wounded. Angry as he was, his first priority was to the ship and her crew. "Take her down, commander."

"Depth, sir?"

"As far as you can go." He decision was resolute. The trench they hovered over was more than 30,000 feet deep, but he had confidence that the _SeaQuest_ could handle it. She'd been tested to 20,000, and he'd press his luck if he had to. It was the only card he had left to play.

"Aye, sir. Flooding all ballasts." Sweat laced his hands as Commander Ford gripped the helm's controls and coaxed as much as he could out of the navigation system until she died.

Like a shadowy leviathan, the _SeaQuest_ sank past the subs, past the trench wall, and into the heart of the ocean floor.


	6. Part Two: The Dissonance of Dreams

_**SeaQuest**_

**Part Two**

"**The Dissonance of Dreams"**

The med bay filled with a sudden silence broken only by small beeps from essential equipment restarting on generator power.

Westphalen pushed herself off the floor and swiped at her loosed hair, a welt forming on her left cheek. Around her, she heard the groans of her medical and science staff as they picked themselves off of whatever they'd landed on. "Is everyone all right?" she asked in a concerned tone. She got scattered responses from around the room. "Brawly?"

"Aye, ma'am," Brawly's tenor voice answered with a grunt.

"Good, that's one," she sighed. "Count them off." Her team rattled off their given number for emergencies, and she sighed in relief that all twelve had answered. "Lucas? Lucas!"

"If I wasn't sober, I am now," Lucas groaned, slowly pulling himself up off the floor out of Kristin's line of sight.

Westphalen hurried over to him and checked him over. Being on a thorazine high, he was relaxed enough that the few bruises he received weren't as bad as they could have been. "Thank heaven you're all right," she breathed. "Sam?" She saw Lucas hang his head and his expression changed to more fearful when his blue eyes met her green ones.

"I'm o.k. What happened?" Samantha asked, fear edging her/his voice.

Kristin only had time to inhale before Lucas answered his own question.

"The core's been hit. It looks like it fried everything. We'll be luckily to get anywhere now." He was frustrated and still in shock, yet the adrenaline rush was keeping back some of the anger, and the thorazine was keeping him from making any major moves. He stood to get his bearings back, and wavered as the room spun around him. His head seemed to loose all its brain mass, feeling light as a feather and just as wispy.

"Give me your arm," Kristin demanded, then pierced a needle through his skin.

Lucas flinched.

_Ow_. Lucas saw Samantha rub her arm in the exact same spot.

"It's a stimulant. It'll counteract the thorazine." She helped him to sit back on the bed.

"I have to get to the core and find out what happened," he insisted in a groggy tone, though he didn't fight Kristin's move to sit him down again.

"Not like this you aren't." She looked Lucas in the eye. "Sam, --heaven knows why I'm entertaining this notion--but I know you can hear me, so I want you to keep him here while I try to contact the bridge, all right?"

"Doc," Lucas argued, seeing Samantha cross her arms behind her.

"Lucas, don't argue."

_I'm not a kid. Stop treating me like one._

"Aye, aye, ma'am." Samantha wanted a hand to salute with, so she used Lucas'. "I'm you're...uh...man."

Kristin shook her head and activated the comm. "Doctor to the Bridge." Static. "Doctor to the bridge, this is Westphalen. Can someone hear me?" She waited a moment before trying again. "Captain, pick up if you're there." The comm continually refused to answer with anything else but static. "Damn," she cursed in a whisper, releasing the talk button. "All right. Brawly, Mathews, Cunningham, you stay here and try to get some of this equipment back online. The rest of you," she paused, looking her staff over with a breath in the dim red light. "Search the boat for wounded. No doubt we'll have a full plate once the comm system is running again."

Lucas spoke as she walked passed him. "If you're going to see the captain, I'm coming with you." He hopped off the bed, still light headed, but not as much as before. He felt Samantha's agreement rather than heard it, and saw her nod.

Kristin shook her head at the young computer genius. "Now's not the time."

"Doc, I know this boat just as well as anyone, if not better in some respects, and Sam can find her way around the ship in her sleep. I may have someone else in my head, but it's not a crutch, and I'm not a child. We're coming." He held his ground with unwavering resolution. This wasn't about to be the straw that would break his back, and he was relieved to know that Samantha agreed with him.

Kristin grabbed Lucas' hand to steady him when his balance faltered. Reluctantly, she gave to his point. "Stay close."

Lucas nodded.

"Teenagers," she uttered as she walked out of the med bay, Lucas following behind.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Every crewman held his breath at the ominous sounds of bulkheads straining under the intense pressure of the waters. It resounded through the ship like noises from an old haunted house. Though the outer skin was quick in beginning the repairs on itself, the simple knowledge that there was a break in their protection made sweat bead on the heads of those who knew about the outer skin's wounds, and those who feared it. The tension hung thick in the air as though it could be cut with a razor blade and maintain its shape.

In the wardroom, the atmosphere was no different.

Lucas sat at the side of the long table drumming his thumbs impatiently on its dark polished surface while Samantha leaned against the view screen and watched the others filter in around them. To his right sat Dr. Westphalen, Lt. Krieg, Lt. Ortiz, Commander Ford, Lt. Hitchcock, Chief Crocker, and Lt. O'Neill. None looked too pleased.

_Cheery crowd,_ Samantha quipped.

_Lets hope we can get some answers._

Captain Bridger took his place at the head of the table facing the view screen.

He had been through situations where he had to call on the expertise of the crew. Each time they had answered with top performance, and he had confidence they would pull through again just as in the past. Hell, his first mission on this boat was in a similar situation when he was pitted against one of his brightest students--Captain Marilyn Stark.

A low red light played on the figures in the room, discoloring their skin.

"Captain, with all due respect, we'd like to know what's going on here," Ben started.

Bridger folded his hands calmly on the table top. "I know you all have questions, and regarding the secrecy of this mission, I'd expect you to," he began, "but the fact of the matter remains: We're not here to meet a convoy as I've told you. We're here to solve the mystery of what happened to one."

Everyone's eyes peered intently on the captain.

"Those subs up there are part of a pirate faction called 'Winter's Raid.' They've been hitting UEO outposts for weeks in search of a mineral discovered in undersea mining."

_A mineral?_ Samantha said seconds before Kristin.

"The areas attacked bore only one similarity; they all contained the mineral KL-24p."

Samantha looked wide eyed to where Lucas sat and straightened. _KL-24p, that's..._

"That's what we used in the VR experiment," Lucas completed her thought, "but it's only known use is as a super conductor for high amounts of electricity. What would a pirate faction want with it?"

"The Tin Man keeps short circuiting?" Ben lightly folded his arms.

"We don't know why they want it," Bridger said, "only that they were willing to attack a UEO convoy to get it. Unfortunately, that's all the Intel. We've gathered."

"So, we're stuck in the middle of a trench with three warrior subs, a cruiser hanging over our heads, and WSKR bits in the water because some big shot pirate wants to get rich from a rare mineral?" A pulse throbbed in Miguel's forehead. He wanted to wring their necks.

"Don't forget running on minimal power," Tim chimed in.

Bridger interrupted. "It was supposed to remain classified, but in light of recent events, I felt it was your right to know."

_Gee, thanks._

Bridger stole his time before dropping this next time bomb on them. "There's one more thing. There's been a breech in security--a Leak."

"Why wasn't I informed?" Commander Ford asked in a cool tone.

Bridger leaned back. "No one was supposed to know about it in case the Leak discovered we were hunting for him and bugged out. Now," he began, seeing disapproving looks on the faces of his officers, "I know it wasn't any of you, but UEO regulation stands. And that includes you, Commander." He got a resigned look from his ex-o. "I didn't want to believe it, but it was on this boat."

"He's the one who blew up the core," anger edged Lucas' voice.

Bridger nodded. "Noyce has reason to believe it was one of the personnel we picked up at the Stone Temple colony."

"There were a dozen new crewmen, Cap. And I've checked all of them in the last twelve hours. They all came up clean," Chief Crocker answered.

_Evidently you missed something,_ Lucas thought with a frown.

"Check them again. Find out who was in that sea launch."

"Aye, Cap."

"Sir, we've isolated the blast to the VRN system," Lt. Hitchcock spoke up, more than a little irked. "Whoever sabotaged it had bypassed the protection protocols in a way that was undetectable by a quick pass scan. The damage is extensive sir, and we're looking at a two week minimum just to repair it. Only my team and I have been in that area since the test run. No one but you, myself, Lucas, and Samantha know the codes."

_They got to the VRN? Oh great. Now what are we gonna do?_ Samantha moved from the view screen to pacing behind Lucas.

Lucas pushed back the urge to hit the table and settled for rapping his knuckles against his knee. _What do you mean, what are we going to do?_

_That's exactly what I mean, Wolenczak. That system was the whole cause of this mess. What if we need that to reverse what happened to us?_ She moved to sit on the edge of the table to his right. Everyone else was completely ignorant to her presence.

Lucas started to feel his heartbeat quicken. _Calm down. All we need is eye contact._

_With what?_ Samantha asked dryly. She knew as did he--and everyone else on board--that her body was pretty much a shell, and that eye contact meant looking a dead body in the eye, which gave Lucas serious anxiety. _This happened through an electrical surge when you broke the chip. We may need that surge again._

_Not by what Dr. Levin said._

_Dr. Levin wasn't sure. He didn't know if it could be pulled off at all. He said that not even he could be a guide._

All the blood drained from Lucas' face at once. He felt someone tapping his shoulder and turned to the right--but Samantha had disappeared and taken a place by the captain.

"Are you all right?" Kristin asked quietly.

"Y..Yeah..Yeah. I'm ok. It's just the thorazine," Lucas stuttered. And for the first time since this began, he entertained the thought of having Samantha Kinkade in his head for longer than a few days. He felt her move restlessly in the confines of his mind even as he saw her walk around the room. He grit his teeth.

"Lucas? Hey, Lucas, snap out of it," Miguel snapped his fingers.

"Huh?" Lucas blinked, realizing he'd missed a good portion of the briefing, which normally didn't take very long. Believing he knew where the briefing would have ended off, he picked up at the most logical place when involving the ship's computer. "Oh, uh, Yeah. I can get to work on the system right away. You'll need every hand you can get and I'm the best on this boat..."

_You're overdoing it..._

"...I know the computer backwards and forwards."

There was an awkward silence that filled the wardroom as all eyes turned on the sixteen Year old. Ben coughed once.

Bridger was the first to break the thickness of it. "That's not what we were talking about, but thank you. I would like you in on this."

"Right," Lucas face went red, feeling like an ass, but covering it up with a placid look, like he meant to screw up. He was feeling a lot better until he felt himself speak. _Sam_...

"Captain, we spent a lot of time in there and Lu...er...I think the Leak fried it to cover his tracks," Samantha added, acting like Lucas as best she could. "Something like the VRN could get a lot of money off the black market, and from what Lt. Hitchcock had said, he obviously knew what he was doing. Something that detailed and intricate takes a lot of expertise. In a way, it's kinda cool."

_Good idea._ Lucas thought. _Even though I thought of it._

_You weren't going to say anything._

_So you thought you'd take the initiative?_

_One of us had to do something with your errant thought._ Samantha withdrew her energy from his arms and speech, and resumed watching the world through his eyes.

Captain Bridger let out a breath and nodded. "'Cool' isn't the word I'd use, Lucas. Chief, I want you to check out every member of Lt. Hitchcock's team. See if they knew anything. O'Neill?"

"Sir?"

"Start digging through the comm messages over the last two weeks and look for anything suspicious."

"Aye, sir," Tim answered, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Ortiz, put as much auxiliary power into the onboard sensors as you can and find every scrap of data gathered from the WSKRs on those attack subs. We need to know _exactly_ who we're dealing with."

"Yes, sir," Miguel answered in a determined tone.

"As for you, Mr. Wolenczak," Bridger gave a small grin that tugged at the corner of his mouth as the boy looked attentive. "Get started."

"Uh, Yes sir."

"Dismissed."

Ben stood and walked to the door with Miguel. "Don't worry. We'll get you some new toys. I know some great contacts." He gave him a reassuring pat on the back.

"Who ever did this is seriously going to pay," Hitchcock snarled as she walked down the hall.

"Sure. You haven't had a hide nailed to your door in weeks," Ben joked.

Hitchcock shot him a glare that would have shattered ice.

Miguel brushed past the moral officer. "Smooth, Ben."

Ben hung back a moment, knowing it was an idiotic thing to say, then left the briefing room, leaving the door open.

Lucas got up to leave the room with everyone else when Bridger grabbed him through voice. "Lucas. Stay."

_Uh oh..._ Hands in his pockets, he walked back. "Look, captain, I can explain what happened..."

Bridger held up his hand to shush him. "I know, kiddo. It's Samantha. I was watching you."

_He was? That means someone else could have noticed...--Lt. Ortiz..._ Lucas scratched the back of his neck, whereas Samantha's image looked at him and shrugged sheepishly.

The captain's next question sounded more like a father to a surrogate son. "How are you doing?"

"Bordering on insanity, but considering the lack of personal privacy, t_ha gu math_," he answered with a shrug.

"No side effects, nothing causing you pain or discomfort?"

"No. Just a headache now and then…"

_Oh, ha, ha._

"…although we attributed that to cell memory capacity. To keep me from going bonkers, my mind created an image of her to interact with, but," he pointed out, "the flying monkeys haven't shown up yet."

_Key word there, Scarecrow,_ she blinked for him.

Bridger let it slide with a light 'hmph.' "Kristin said you were asking for me earlier, and it sounded pretty important."

"Oh, that," he remembered almost guiltily, facing the captain and biting his lip. "See, when we realized that she couldn't survive outside…well, outside my body, and hers hadn't been repaired yet, she sorta... uh, sir, she panicked. _Really_ panicked." The signs of a silent conversation crept over his face for a moment where he slightly glanced to the left at her image. "She says she's very sorry for trashing the med bay, and for overreacting like that, and promises she'll never do it again."

"Apology accepted."

"Sir," Lucas ventured, "The VRN… What if Sam and I need that to return to normal?"

A small cough caught their attention and both synchronously turned toward the door. Tim O'Neill froze like he'd been cornered by the cops. Silently, he berated himself for not being able to hold back the cough that betrayed him. "Um, I left my notepad on the table. The door was open." He hoped the later would excuse his presence, as the air had suddenly grown thick.

"How long have you been standing there, Lt.?" Bridger asked.

"Long enough to be confused, sir," he answered slowly.

Lucas felt a wave of dread wash over him. Someone else knew.

_At least it isn't Ben._

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that eavesdropping was rude?" Lucas stated.

"I wasn't droppin' no eaves, I swear," Tim defended.

Bridger noted the Tolkien reference, and Samantha chuckled out loud. There was a reason she liked Tim.

Tim glanced over at Lucas, then to the captain, and scratched his ear. For a long moment, the void between the three was filled with the distinctive sense of yet another awkward silence until Bridger gestured to the table. "Lieutenant?"

"Right," Tim said quickly, reminded of why he came back in the first place, and scurried to grab his notepad. As he picked it up, he addressed the two in the room. "Sir, if you don't mind my asking, I'd like to know what's going on. What did you mean by all that stuff about Sam? She's like a little sister to me, sir. If any news involving her comes up, I would like to know," he said sincerely, only concern lacing his voice.

"Captain..." Lucas approached Bridger, trying to push his point of wariness in spreading the word. But, as Tim had even asked the question, the damage was clearly done.

Sam nodded but Lucas pressed her back. _I don't want anyone else knowing._

They're going to find out sooner or later. She moved closer to the boundaries between them. In her imagined mind's eye, she approached the edge of his vision, arms folded, but in a relaxed manner across her blue shirt. A great deal of the tightness had gone from her mental voice. I trust Tim. If I were to choose anyone to know, then I'd choose him.

_It's not that I don't trust him, it's that I'd rather the less people that know you're in my head, the better._

_He won't tell._

_You sure?_

_Positive._

_So we're up for 20 Questions._

_It's not that hard. Just answer truthfully, and whatever you don't know, I'll help with._

He knew she was positive. He could feel it. And he'd needed to hear it from her first in more of a supporting strength. "Ok."

Tim had noticed the switch in expressions from the invisible exchange, and his curiosity piqued.

Lucas sighed and gestured at a chair. "Have a seat," he said loosely. Tim remained standing.

"I think you'd better sit down for this one, Lt," Bridger advised.

Tim blinked in confusion, then sat down in the closest chair and waited for the explanation.

tbc


	7. Chapter Seven

**Seven**

The Pirate cruiser _Equinox_ bobbed gently to the flowing motion of the calm central pacific seas. Sunlight glinted off the smooth white hull of the double-decker yacht as the sun slowly sank into the deep blue waves. The sky was filled with wisps of white clouds that glowed pink and orange as the sun painted its masterpiece across the feathery tips, and a cool evening air swept through the deck of the boat like breath on those still outside the generous comfort of the cabins. From a distance, the ship would appear to be a normal cruiser, perhaps owned by a rich investor from New York, but at a closer inspection, one could make out score marks on the hull, barnacles latched to the bottom of the boat, and a bumper sticker on the rounded stern that read "Tahiti or Bust." Between the battle scars, in black bold print, was the name of the vessel; For a ship is cursed unless she's given a name. _The Equinox_ was the pride and joy of Colonel Eric Corvain.

He stood in a near placid state looking out a solid glass pane window, easily swaying with the ship as swell after swell lapped against the hull. It had been like a mother's rocker to him since he'd discovered the beauty of the sea and the tranquility it holds. Yet in less than a Year out of the Academy, he'd taken that beauty to its very depths, to its heart in search of precious minerals, bacteria samples from black smokers, and other goods that he could sell for a decent price, and one day make his future from the bosom of the sea. He had figured there would be steps to take, and so he had taken them and earned his place as the leader of the pirate faction Winter's Raid. He held high standing, but the pirating business could take you only so far with small attacks on outposts and colonies to gain enough riches for his imagined nirvana. He wanted more. And the _SeaQuest_ had given it to him, weither she'd wanted to or not.

He watched one of the warrior subs surface on the port side and slowly swirled the auburn colored liquor around the glass clutched in his left hand. A report from the sub that picked up Jeffries lay on the table in front of him.

"It worked like a charm, Colonel," Captain Jack Madack said in a triumphant bass voice. He stood behind Corvain. "Jeffries was right on time. Our sub computers adapted well to the information on the VR piloting system, and the Navigators have proven their worth. It's one fancy nugget you took from the _SeaQuest_."

"Yes. Fancy indeed. And the KL-24p?"

"We've almost enough to complete the shipment. Jeffries brought back four kilograms from the _SeaQuest_. Now all we need is six and our Mr. Phalwell will be a happy man."

Corvain grinned. "Very good. One more UEO storage facility should do it."

"What if we should, say, acquire more than planned?" Madack suggested with a sly sneer.

Corvain, however, remained resolute. "We deliver only what's required to run the VR systems. No more. Phalwell has big plans for this one."

"I could care less what that rich old geezer does with it, as long as I get my money," Madack growled.

"Oh, you'll get your money captain," Corvain assured, sipping his liquor. "What of the _SeaQuest_ herself?"

"She hit bottom--sunk to 18,000." He whistled in admiration. "Damn if that ain't impressive."

"She's an impressive vessel. Only the best can serve on her." Corvain sipped the liqueur. "Set a course for Catalina Island."

Madack shifted to his right foot. "Shouldn't we wait for her to come up and finish the job?"

"It would be a waste of our time, Jack," he stated, setting the half empty glass down on the table beside the report. "We've got what we came for and the UEO's prize mouse got caught with its foot in the trap. No. We'll get our money's worth out of this piloting system and let the _SeaQuest_ lick her wounds for a bit. But," he added, "keep two subs here out of radar range. Just in case." Keeping his voice cool, he turned back to the window.

"Aye, sir," Captain Madack nodded. "Searching for something?"

"No," Corvain answered. "The sea is sometimes too beautiful to speak of, with too many inconstancies, unpredictable and teaming with possibilities. She holds more secrets and gilded mysteries than any man can dream. It awes the soul to merely gaze upon its greatness, and all one can do is look and hope you remember."

"Whatever you say, Colonel."

Madack had only involved himself for the cut of the money from the VR navigation system, and often times, he didn't understand the Colonel's view on things. But as long as he got the job done and they got paid, mutiny was still suppressed. "Jeffries is in fair condition, but I think he'll pull through. He's a tough lad and a hero to Winter's Raid now."

"Aye, and not a martyr." He turned to Madack. "Because of what happened to that Kinkade girl, we'll add a precaution to the package and Mr. Phalwell can do with it as he pleases."

"At least he gets a warning, eh?" Madack joked.

Corvain smiled slightly. "Lay in a course and let's get the hell out of here. We have money to make and sitting here isn't going to make it fly to our fingertips."

"Yes, sir." Madack turned and left Corvain alone in his cabin with thoughts of how he was going to spend the money, and how he was going to use the systems installed on the subs for his own advantage.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"I didn't know one man could ask that many questions," Lucas remarked, tossing a burned out circuit board onto a pile of useless components, and installed its replacement.

_Tim's a curious person. Naturally he'd be interested to know what it was like to have a woman inside you._ The circuit board passed through her foot where the ethereal Samantha sat watching.

"You put it so eloquently."

_Tapadh leat,_ she answered with the remembrance of a smile.

Lucas grinned as he reconnected the new wires to the circuit board and secured it in place. "I think his mouth hit the floor when you answered him in Gaelic."

She laughed, though only he heard. _Yeah, I figured that would go a long way to convincing him you were telling the truth._ She moved his hand a half inch so he'd grab the tiny soldering iron instead of the laser cutter. _No offense, but you know as much about Gaelic as a three legged dog knows about the steeple chase._

"Yeah, well. At least I'm higher than a three legged dog." Having Samantha to talk to actually seemed to make the repairs go faster, if only by a few seconds. "He didn't have to keep asking all those embarrassing questions," he breathed slightly, taking away the soldering iron and picking up another piece of replacement equipment.

_Over half of them were embarrassing,_ she pointed out. _Ya wanna narrow the field a bit?_

He rested his arm on his raised knee and looked at her, the circuit board hanging loosely in his right hand. "Ok, pick a category: Sensory perception, memory access, motor control, how it feels to eat," he laughed, going back to his work. _I still can't believe he asked that one._

_I can. The day to day living questions are what make it real, _she said, shifting as if settling down for the long hours these technical repairs would take. _Well, everyone did say we needed to spend more quality time together instead of trying to tear each other's heads off. _She blinked. _Blue, red--switch. cut, twist. Yellow, left. Replace transistor._

Lucas made the repairs even as she said them. "Ok, but this was not what I had in mind." He jerked his hand back from a spark in the plasma flow, but kept at working on the interior of the system, head stuck inside one of the access panels in the adjoining hallways on D-deck.

_Agreed. I was thinking more a tennis match where we would hit little green balls at each other at high velocities and call it bonding._

He laughed out loud.

A crewman working with the team assigned to that section handed Lucas another batch of wires and circuit boards. "Here ya go. Lt. Hitchcock says it's exactly what you asked for. We had to take apart some of the vidcoms and strip down the sensor relays from one of the _Marauders'_, but she's sure they're compatible with the system."

"Thanks. Tell her this section should be up in another couple of hours," Lucas replied in a tired tone.

"No problem," the crewman answered, and left to resume his work.

Unbenounced to him, someone else was standing quietly by the bulkhead out of Lucas' sight, arms crossed, and sporting a curiously amused expression.

_Let me switch and take control for a while, Lucas,_ she offered.

"Hmm, let me think. No," Lucas answered shortly, going back to his work.

_You're tired._ Samantha felt his knee pop from being bent for so long.

"No, I'm not."

_Don't lie to me, Wolenczak._

"Sleep is a luxury I can't afford," he answered defiantly.

_Sleep is a necessity._

"So you sleep."

_I can't when you keep moving._

"Well, try."

_stop moving._

"Try harder."

_Do you always do this to yourself?_ she asked without much bitterness. _Is it in your nature to torture yourself like this?_ Though she would pull all-nighters such as this, she at least had a cup of coffee sitting aside to keep her awake.

"Only when someone's sabotaged the main computer and stranded us at the middle of a 30,000 foot trench. We have minimal power, life support maintained by battery operated generators, no communications, no navigation control, oh, and we're out of Twinkies," he added in a smart-alec tone. "It's a common occurrence. You should be use to it," he snapped, throwing another useless circuit board aside.

_What, the lack of Twinkies?_ She matched his tone perfectly and Lucas rapped the soldering iron harder against the panel with a clank.

"Don't start. I'm not in the mood." He pointed the soldering iron at her.

_Irritability. Common sign of fatigue._

He growled.

_I rest my case._ She stayed back with the feeling of content victory and he sensed her smile.

"Having fun in there talking to your invisible friend again?" Ben asked smoothly.

Lucas jerked his head up in surprise and was rewarded when it collided with the bulkhead. "Ow." He backed out of the access port and looked up, idly rubbing his head. "Ah, Ben, don't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle ya." Ben started flipping a small data disk between his knuckles as he leaned against the wall that supported the access port, legs crossed at the ankles. "Ya know, people here have been asking questions. It seems there's been some kind of strange phenomena occurring with one of the crew, and it's got a lot of people talking."

Lucas stood and wiped at his lip, leaving a smudge of grease on his chin. "Is this going somewhere? Cause I have work to do."

Ben caught the small disk and pointed it at the sixteen Year old. "Don't play dumb with me. I know you're up to something. Don't try to con a con."

Lucas sighed. "Look around, Ben. We're in the middle of a crisis. I don't think whatever you're hunting for is important right now. Go...follow the yellow brick road or something. I'm working," he waved lightly away and went back to work.

Ben held up the disk between the index and middle fingers of his right hand. "Whatever you say, kid. I got what I need right here anyway. I'm sure some of the others would really love to see what's on this bad boy," he shrugged then started walking away from a stunned Lucas.

Lucas jerked back to attention and Samantha made his eyes narrow. _Oh, he's dead._

"Wait!" Lucas caught up to the Lt. just as Ben turned around. Taking a breath, Lucas looked him in the eye. "What's on it?" he asked calmly.

"Seeing as how you've been acting so strange recently, I did a little surveillance of my own," he began, fingering the disk. Lucas was hungry to snatch it from his hand and take off running.

"I don't know about you, but this is pretty heavy stuff, I mean, who would believe it? Though I do know about a dozen crewmen who'd go nuts for this kind of thing." He turned to go, but was yanked back by an eager, paranoid teenage hand.

"Ben, don't," he warned.

"All right, here's the deal: You confirm what's on the disk, and I hand it over. You refuse, and the whole boat gets to hear the story word for word."

_One shot, Lucas, that's all I need. No one will ever find the body._ Samantha clenched his fist and moved uneasily.

I don't believe this. "All right! All right. Just...be quiet, please," Lucas urged through gritted teeth, releasing Ben's arm. It went against every logical reasoning in his being, but it was either spill the beans or have the whole boat know. Either way, it was an ultimatum. He opted for the safest route. "It's true," he relinquished. "The accident caused a surge in the VRN that transferred Samantha's consciousness from virtual space to my brain. There. Are you happy now?"

A sense of shock and sudden skepticism sprang up from the pit of Ben's stomach, but he kept a cool composure so as not to shatter his perfectly planned act. "In your head. As in, inside you?"

"If you say anything at all..." Lucas threatened.

Ben stopped him with a wave of his hand. "Wait, wait, whoa, wait. So let me get this straight--just for the record: Samantha Kinkade, the girl you swore you'd never spend more than ten minutes in a room with, is shacked up in your noggin, sharing your body?"

Samantha snorted. _Now_ he _puts_ _it eloquently_. Lucas saw her hand pass through Ben's head as she tried to smack him. I_ can't believe he would do that! The jackass._

Lucas nodded reluctantly. "Yes, yes, she is, she's here, and she says you're a jackass, so fork it over. You got what you wanted," he demanded, holding out his hand for the small bit of technology he was sure would cause him more embarrassment than he already had being the black sheep on the ship.

Ben whistled and gave Lucas the disk, shaking his head. "That's a story for the books. I never would have guessed."

"You never would have--" Lucas looked at the disk, then to Ben, his eyebrows knitting together as a theory grew. "What's on the disk, Ben," he asked slowly and cautiously, enunciating each word.

Lt. Krieg let a grin creep across his face. "WSKR surveillance logs from four weeks ago, actually," he mused.

Lucas' face went from shock to anger. "You tricked me."

Samantha pushed forward to control Lucas' speech and gripped Ben's uniform in his fists. "You creep! Ben, so help me if I ever get out of this, I'm going to make your life so miserable, you won't even be able to sit down without a plush donut under your ass and a bag of ice stapled to your head where your eyes should be!"she cursed at him in Gaelic. Lucas had to force her back before she carried out her threat and released him, stepping away.

Ben held up his hands and stepped back. "Whoa, hey, take it easy, kid. Calm down." Hearing Lucas speak that much Gaelic that fluently with that much heat behind it seemed to confirm the already bizarre story. "Look I won't tell anyone. I promise."

Lucas glared.

"You can trust me."

Lucas glared.

"Really."

"Ben, please don't tell anyone. I ask you as a friend. Please."

Ben held up three fingers. "Scouts honor. Catch ya--I mean--you guys, later," he added, and quickly walked around the corner.

"Man," he mused to himself, whistling one more time to let it all sink in. "Sam in Lucas." Then he laughed. "Talk about your odd couple," he sniggered as he walked away. He had to remember to thank Miguel later for the data disk.

Lucas' shoulders slumped and he looked down at the small reflective disk laying innocently in his palm--his betrayer. In a small motion, he flicked it aside and watched it bounce along the metal grating of the deck plate like a coin.

"Remind me one of these days to put arsenic in his food."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

_Later that same day..._

Commander Ford had to hand it to them. In a matter of twenty-four hours, the crew had managed to patch together enough of the systems that they had partial internal lighting, the vocorder was almost functioning properly again, the cook had his oven back online and finally ditched the Holman's camping stove, and by the gods they had air conditioning! Reports on minute, yet gratifying accomplishments to the damages were still being handed in, and all seemed to be proceeding exceptionally well on the good ship Lollipop, except for one minor detail...

"This thing is a piece of junk!" Frustrated, Katie Hitchcock kicked the outlet for the VR core hard enough to create a dull ring from the metal casing. "I've tried everything in the book, out of the book, between the lines, around the lines, and through every engineers manual for Virtual Reality sub systems available on this ship, and it's still non responsive. I'm this close to throwing the whole damn thing out the nearest air lock, commander." The irritation was evident in her voice and she did nothing to hide it from the tall man beside her.

"Maybe you should just take a break, Katie," Commander Ford suggested, wiping the sweat off his brow with a red rag. "You've been at this for six hours."

"It's probably something simple," she rationalized. "If I could just find it, then there would be no problem."

"I'm not questioning your ability to fix it, Lt."

"Then give me more time."

"Ok," he agreed. "After you've had a break." Ford tossed the rag aside.

Katie's exasperation shown through in a deep sigh. "Fine. Maybe eating will clear my head. Want something?" she asked on her way out.

Ford shook his head. "No thanks. I already ate."

Katie nodded and left her tools on the floor, tossing a wrench back in the tool box and wiping a forearm across her forehead. She placed her hands on her hips. "I can't believe it was Jeffries," she uttered, shaking her head in regret.

Maxwell Jeffries had been the only new crewman unaccounted for after the battle. Ford recalled the day before that O'Neill had managed to recover a broken data stream sent via satellite on a secured comm channel after security had been searching through Jeffries' cabin. Chief Crocker had discovered various forms of proof that confirmed Jeffries' connection with the pirate faction "Winter's Raid" and indelibly started them on a wild goose chase for the missing pieces of the comm puzzle. Tim had his hands full with maintaining power to the communications station anyway. The best he could milk out of the receivers and satellite uplink was below average for a 1980's fishing trawler.

"His UEO record was clean," Ford said. "They couldn't even pin him for a speeding ticket. It's not your fault."

"I know, but still. He was one of my team. I chose him myself and then this happens. The captain will never let me do anything like this again," she huffed, tossing the rag by the commander's.

"The captain knows his crew," Ford answered, looking Katie in the eye.

Katie recognized the praise in that small sentence and allowed herself a smile. Of course the captain wouldn't hold this one incident against her. The explosion hadn't been her fault, and there was no way she could have known Jeffries' game was espionage. Katie was a damn good engineer and the captain knew it. "Thanks, commander," she smiled, and left for the galley.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, then I said to the guy, 'Look. All I want is a little peace and quiet for a change,' and he goes off telling me how much of a slob I am, and that I shouldn't be complaining about a little polka music now and then. Polka music! That name in itself is born out of the fires of hell."

Miguel Ortiz handed Tim a wrench out of the tool box they were sharing, and continued stripping the rubber from wires and twisting the metal together to transfer what minimal power he had from a battery pack to his station. A battery powered workman's lantern hung by a jury-rigged hook between them, casting a soft white light around them.

"Ensign Mayweather was always like that, I remember him back at the academy. He was Johnson's roommate at the time." Tim snickered, took the wrench and began tightening the bolts one by one on the side panel of his station. "So what happened?"

"He moved out," Miguel worked with the controls of his consol, testing it to see if the repairs had worked. "Took everything of his and split."

"You got your own room. I don't see what you're complaining about," Lucas chimed in from his position on the floor by a gutted vocorder receiver he was repairing to get his mind off his previous project--navigation.

Samantha's image lay on her back, kicking her feet lazily against the panel in a beat no other ears could hear.

"Maybe he should move in with you," Miguel joked.

Lucas laughed. "Yeah, right. My room is a six by twelve rectangle. Nice try, but I have sensitive equipment, and there's no way you could fit a double occupant in there."

_Well..._

_Shuddup._

Samantha's image smiled.

"Do you know who got stuck with him?" Tim asked, pulling himself back into his chair as he handed the wrench back to Miguel.

"Yea. Lebowitz," he said with a smirk.

Tim's laugh bounced around the small space. "Oh man! That must be interesting. The OCD pez collector and the clogger."

"I don't care. As long as I don't have to listen to 'The Chicken Dance' again, I'm happy." Miguel dropped the wrench in the tool box and it clattered against the other myriad of tools.

There was a moment of silence before it was split by a voice that sounded like it had just received three gumballs out of a quarter machine. "I think I got it. I got it!" Tim exclaimed as his screen regained full power. "Yes! Communications are back online," he announced happily, and set to work instantly on deciphering the coded transmission sent through Jeffries' quarters. Miguel, on the other hand, was still busy jury-rigging his own station.

Lucas hunkered back down with his project and switched to his laptop. He peered thoughtfully as numbers scrolled across the screen, then typed in a few commands.

_If you added a loop to the program, it'd be easier._ Samantha's image wasn't even looking at the screen. She didn't need to.

_I know what I'm doing,_ he dismissed her easily, caught up in his work.

_So do I, and I'm telling you, it's easier than having to manually hunt for the noun. The loop will keep your previously entered words in the memory, that way you can go back and fix them later without having to enter in the entire equation. It's a simple procedure._

_So now you're telling me how to do my job? If you forgot, Sam, I created this system and I know how to run it._

_So run it. I'm just giving you a suggestion, she offered, hearing the exasperation in his voice._ She got up to lean against the panel. _Sorry for voicing my opinion_.

_No you're not._

She cocked her head a little, smiling. _You're right. I'm not._

He got up and walked into the hallway where a pile of battery packs had been laid and started sifting through them for on operable one.

_Don't ignore me, Lucas, you know I'm right._ A crew member walked right through her, distorting her image slightly.

_Don't start._

_You just can't stand that I remembered it before you did._

"Bite me, Sam," he uttered low enough so as not to be heard by anyone else on the bridge.

_No thanks. I'm not in the habit of biting myself,_ she shot back. Lucas' body was exhausted from too much work and too little rest, and it was making them both irritable and short fused.

"Look. Why don't you go off and haunt someone else for a change?" he turned to her, speaking in a low voice, and pulled the connectors from another pack, replacing them easily.

_Believe me, I wish I could._

He glanced to her, then back. _Just be quiet._

_Make me._

_Get a life._

_Get a hair cut._

_Get a body!_

_That was low_, she scowled as she watched him walk away, her face shifting to cold anger.

"I don't need this," Lucas sighed as he sat back down at the lap top and plugged the new battery into place.

_Oh, and you think I do? Just like I need to feel that cold sore forming on your lip, or the cramp in your neck?_

_No wonder no one ever talks to you._

She seethed and he felt it. _Lucas, stick your head between your knees and kiss my..._

"How's it coming, Lucas?" Bridger asked as he leaned on the pool's edge.

Lucas didn't even hear the captain come in. The kid's head snapped up in surprise and he paused, his thoughts scattering like spilled poker chips on a waxed table. He took a moment to gather them again. "The, uhm, the noun syntax is, uh, still messed up, and the, um, connection with the computer's linguistical database keeps cutting out, but it's moving. Slowly." He sighed. "I don't know, captain, this is a lot of damage." He poked at the yellow receiver again, hoping for something different other than the scrambled garble the computer was spitting through the system to Darwin. "All we're getting is something worthy of Dr. Seuss."

"We?" Miguel asked, glancing over at the young computer genius.

Samantha made Lucas bite his lip.

"Uhm," Lucas began, biting his lip, "'we' as in Me and Darwin."

Nathan nodded though he knew who 'we' actually meant. He also noticed the bags gathering under Lucas' eyes. "Why don't you call it a night?"

"But captain, if I could just..."

"That's an order."

Lucas sighed. With nearly every station undergoing repairs, the bridge pretty much looked like a train had wrecked in it, so reluctantly, but willingly, Lucas left his menagerie of parts and wires scattered on the floor with the gutted vocorder and shut down his laptop. "Yes sir. G'night, sir," he said loosely, and left through the clam doors.

Ben passed Lucas in the threshold of the doors with a wave, but couldn't help but look back. Something minutely different forced him to take a second glance. "Is he wearing Sam's necklace?"

"I didn't notice," Miguel said. "I don't keep track of peoples' jewelry." He snapped his panel back in place and tried for the umpteenth time to piece together the memory logs from the WSKRs before they were destroyed like so much puffer fluff.

Ben thought it would make sense if he was sporting her dolphin ring necklace. "Well, strange things like to happen around here. He'll blend in nicely."

Nathan Bridger knelt by the vocorder, figured out where Lucas left off and picked it up from there. He knew the schematics well enough to at least try, and it gave him something to occupy his mind, though the bridge conversation seeped into his ears regardless.

"You're not in the least bit curious?" Tim asked.

"Not a bit," Ben answered smoothly.

"I find that a little hard to believe," Miguel said. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but most of the strange things that happen here find their epicenter around you."

"Yeah, well, you can't be the star all the time," Ben smiled.

"So what's going on?" Miguel swiveled to eye Ben.

Tim turned around as well. "You know something." As he knew that Lucas and Samantha wanted their secret to stay that way, he played along with the 'ignorance is bliss' game.

"Guys, it's nothing," he laughed, sluffing it off.

Both lieutenants continued to stare at him. The captain grinned slightly to himself and mentally braced for impending pandemonium.

For a moment, Ben thought it would be wonderful to just spill the whole bizarre story; to watch it roil in the minds of his friends as they pondered the truthfulness in it. He could see the disbelief, then the humor, then maybe the shock cross their faces, and he would be God with all the knowledge in the world to dish out in as much or as little as he wanted. He'd be praised for not letting his friend suffer in isolation as the rest of the ship went about its business without even a clue as to what was really going on with the kid; he'd be worshiped for possessing the keys to the preverbal Emerald City.

Instead, Ben simply shrugged. "Look, your guess is as good as mine," he lied. He also wanted to keep his friend, however isolated he may be. "But," he sought to change the subject, "I brought some recharging units for the batteries. Courtesy of Krieg's Friendly Supply and Morale Service," he said with a postal service smile, and set the packs down on the floor.

"You're a life saver," Miguel said, leaving the conversation at that and helping himself to the small recharging units, though still believing that Krieg knew more of what was going on than meets the eye.

Tim smiled briefly as Benjamin Krieg walked off the bridge, then turned back to his work at hand, which was halfway deciphered. The young com officer hadn't expected that. Maybe Ben already knew. If that was the case, then the whole boat was in danger of discovery. Yet Tim had seen a different side to his friend. Still, he prayed his silence would hold.

However spontaneous, devious, and fun-loving a person Ben may be, he'd proven clearly that his friend's trust had come first.

tbc


	8. Chapter Eight

**Eight**

William Noyce paced the spacious living area of his high class two storied home. A panoramic view of the Atlantic ocean spread out before great yawning windows that let the light pour in from the moon's blue-white reflection on the constantly shifting ocean. It was beautiful. It was serene.

He hated times like these.

It had been nearly two days since the _SeaQuest_ had made any form of communication to the UEO concerning the pirates, or the leak, and he was seriously beginning to fear that something had gone wrong. But if it had, wouldn't he have been notified? Nathan Bridger had never been late in reporting the outcome of a situation as serious as this, and the apprehension shouldn't have taken more than two hours at most. The _SeaQuest_ was quick, precise, and thorough--the main reasons it had become the jewel of the fleet. A day's absence was inexcusable, let alone two days. Someone was always contacting the UEO from the ship for something--requesting more supplies, submitting reports, patching calls through to talk to loved ones--but in that amount of time, the organization had received nothing. Something was wrong. Noyce would have bet his weekly poker chits on it.

Two feminine arms wrapped themselves around his waist from behind when he'd stopped pacing to gaze out the wall high windows. "Come back to bed, Bill," a soft woman's voice intervened like silk on his train of thought.

Bill sighed as he rubbed his wife's hands. "Something about this isn't right. I know it."

"It's two a.m., honey. I'm sure they're fine. You need to relax." She soothed, hoping to coax her stubborn husband back into the arms of rest. She'd sensed that this situation at work was giving him more stress than he needed, and with the _SeaQuest_ missing in action, it was wearing down on him. "Let me make you some tea, hmm?" She smiled, kissing his cheek, then shuffled off into the kitchen with fuzzy slippers that shoofed along the tan carpet.

Noyce knew his wife was right and resigned to accepting a cup of tea to help him nod off again.

Without warning, his comlink beeped. He walked over to the desk and pressed the receive button...and nearly collapsed. "Nathan! My god! Where the hell are you? What happened?" Bridger's image was constantly being distorted by static, but the link held, though Noyce thought it would be cut like a string at any minute.

"We've been attacked. I don't have much time on this channel, but we're sitting in the Kermadeck Trench running on minimal power," Bridger said hurriedly, his voice occasionally being interrupted by static. "You were right about the leak, Bill. He sabotaged the main computer and escaped with one of our sea launches. He was with the pirate faction 'Winter's Raid', and it was Jeffries from Stone Temple Colony." Nathan's image paused, letting the information sink into to a shocked admiral before continuing with darker news. "They took the VRN specs and six kilograms of KL-24p. We have a link to where they might have gone, but we won't have engines back for at least another twelve hours."

"Give me the location and I'll have someone out there by morning."

The view screen glowed a technical red from the lighting in the _SeaQuest_ briefing room. "It's not an exact location, but it's a name. Edward Phalwell."

"Of Phalwell Industries?" Though Noyce thought he didn't look shocked, Nathan caught it in his voice.

"The same. We think that 'Winter's Raid' was just trying to get their hands on the system to sell it and the mineral to Phalwell, and we isolated the recipient of the coded message. It went to Eric Corvain."

Nathan sounded disappointed when he said the colonel's name, and Noyce knew why. Bill had known the man strictly by reputation alone, and it wasn't what you'd call a squeaky clean record. He'd also been one of Nathan's students at the academy. Back then he was like much of his class--young and eager to prove themselves for power or fame. "This accusation is enough to put him behind bars."

"The _SeaQuest_ is proof enough to take care of that."

Noyce nodded. "We're on it. I'm sending you some help and putting our best on the hunt for Phalwell."

Nathan's image shifted between static and clarity. "I owe you one. Bridger out."

The view screen went dead. Noyce shut off his screen and keyed in an alert to UEO headquarters then sat heavily in a leather chair. Behind him, his wife came carrying the cup of steaming oolong tea. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes. Yes, it's fine. Thank you, dear." He took the cup and sipped at it idly, glad to know his friend was all right, but worried about the repercussion's of the arrest of a man as powerful as Edward Phalwell.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Lucas tossed and turned in his bed, muttering softly and getting tangled in the sheets while he dreamt-- lost in a deep, exhausting slumber. After eating a short dinner, it hadn't taken him long to fall asleep. Once he was sure Samantha was out, he allowed himself to doze off and quickly succumbed to the welcoming call of rest his body so desperately needed.

He was home again, about eight years old, and hiding in a cupboard. He heard the familiar sound of his mother's car pull into the driveway and then her warm voice as she called for her son. Filled with hope that his mom would make everything all right, that she would explain that the accident was just an accident and he hadn't meant to spill the coffee on his father's laptop, Lucas ran eagerly from the cupboard toward the waiting arms of his mother, but something in his dream was chasing him--something dark and forbidding that held a fearful, yet familiar presence. His small feet padded down the carpeted hall and his fingers had almost brushed the brass doorknob when the darkness seized him. His heart beat harder when he recognized the owner of the masculine hand, the brown eyes that burned down at him, and screamed as he was lifted and carried away.

Immediately, the dream-shifted and he found himself as a younger child in the back seat of a limousine screaming for a completely different reason.

Samantha opened her green eyes to find herself standing on a white sandy beach in the middle of the night, barefoot. The ocean lapped peacefully at the shore while a warm breeze drifted through the spaced palm trees that edged the beach and wrapped around the right side of the lagoon in a beautiful, green, tropical fairy tale. To her left, a wooden path meandered up a sloping grass hill to an old oak perched at the top of the small peninsula that cupped around the beach like a lover's arms. Ahead of the oak was a small Venetian style open air gazebo-like structure. The sky was jet black and shone with stars that glittered like diamonds on the serenity of the private beach. A little cottage sat behind her on a small hill where sand met a boardwalk path safely up from the sea. She smiled, for she knew this place well.

Happily, she let the sea water rush over her own feet--not Lucas'--and smiled as the sand swished from beneath them and made small, perfect foot holes the exact shape and size of her feet. She inhaled the sweet scent of the air dancing with the aromas of tropical flowers, sea water, and rain like just after a spring shower.

She was dreaming, though she didn't care. Her eyes drifted across the slope of the teal waters merging with the ocean beyond, to the oak tree's wooden path and the familiar figure that was descending that path. She let her gaze rest on him for a moment, then turned back to immersing herself in the calmness of the breeze that swept its fingers through her loose brown hair.

Lucas stopped just short of her and took in the surroundings, seeing her standing at the edge of the water, in the center of the beach--in the center of it all. "What is this place?" he asked softly, almost afraid the scenery would shatter around him like sugar-glass if he spoke.

"Dolphin Cove," Samantha wrapped her arms around herself. "It's my place."

"Does it really exist?" He stepped up beside her, feeling the wind brush his face and hair, and the water lick at his bare feet.

"Not to my knowledge, no, but I've always been able to come here." Her words held no bite, no sting, just the sincerity and calmness to match the sea. "Ever since I was little, I would dream of this place in many situations, with many differences, but no matter what, it was still the same. It's kind of like a sanctuary, I guess," she said with an embarrassed smile at using that analogy to describe a dreamscape, and glanced to Lucas. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, giving her a half-grin. "Spying on you." Lucas stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked past the arms of the lagoon to the vast expanse of deep blue beyond it.

She glanced at him, not really believing him.

"I just followed the path and..."

"It lead you here," she finished. She chuckled as Lucas nodded and responded with something that would have resembled a 'Yeah' in another life. "Well, I'm flattered." She knew that she'd been able to see his dreams the past few nights that he had dreamt, but had always wanted to stay as far away from him, and them, as possible. Whether he could see hers, she didn't know until now.

"This is nicer than some of the stuff you've dreamt of lately," he added coolly.

She regarded him coolly. "Thank you."

"Really. It's better than that nightmare about the giant spider invading the ship," he chuckled. "That one's almost as bad as an old Japanese horror flick. All you're missing are the Japanese."

"Well, there is Ensign Yamato, and Officer Chen."

"Who I recall were running in terror through the bridge."

Samantha sighed with exasperation and rolled her eyes. "Can we please not get into this?"

"Why?"

She bent down and picked up a handful of sand. "I hate spiders."

Lucas shrugged. "Ok. No more Arachnazilla," he chuckled.

She stood, dropping the sand. "Thanks."

For a moment, both remained silent until Lucas thought, _Did it have to eat Ensign Mayweather?_

Samantha sighed. "Dammit, Lucas."

"Because that's a little cliché if you ask me."

"Ok, let's have it. Lets let the accusations fly. I know they're in there," she ranted, tapping a finger against his forehead.

"Ok, let's. Every chance you get it's 'Lucas, don't do that.' or 'I know I'm right,' or even when you're taking control of my body. _My_ body. Not yours." He met her exasperated sigh with his own and combed his fingers through his blond hair. "Sometimes I just wish..."

"Wish what?" she faced him. "That I'd sit quietly in the back of your head and watch you live my life?"

"It's _my_ life!" he jabbed a finger at himself, drawing closer to her.

"It's mine, too!" She didn't back away. "Don't you think I hate watching what's going on around me and having nothing to do with it? Hell, I might as well be dead!"

"I never asked to have your...your...soul trapped in my head!"

"Neither did I! But like it or not, we're stuck together and we're both going to have to deal with it." She turned away from him and folded her arms.

Lucas stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned away from her, growling. "It's not a gift, it's a damned curse."

"Oh, screw you, Wolenczak," she threw the words like tiny rocks.

"Switching to insults. Very big of you," his ammunition came just as quickly, laden with sarcasm.

"There's only so much one can say before they come up against a brick wall. You say this ability is a curse in your family, well let me enlighten you, Einstein. No one gives a damn!"

"Makes no difference to me, all right? You're family's just as screwed up as mine!" he yelled. Clearly she had struck a nerve. "You expect me to care what people say? The minute I set foot on this boat I knew no one cared. That was my dad saying 'see ya, son. Hope you have fun without me," he paced, angrily. "I'll tell you what you are," he pointed accusingly. "You're just some dirt digger's egotistical daughter who happens to know more than five digits in the numerical sequence of Pi. You care about no one but yourself, Samantha."

"That is _not_ true!" Her voice rose, though a metal spike rammed itself through her heart. "You take that back!"

Lucas pressed nearly nose to nose with her. "You first!"

"It's not _my_ fault your dad cut out on you!"

"Take it back or you'll find yourself crossing over the hard way!" he growled.

She threw her arms in the air and stomped away from him. "Fine! I take it back. I take it _all_ back! If you don't want me here so bad, then push me out. Go on! Maybe then you'll be happy!"

"I probably would, but you'd die!" He matched her animosity perfectly.

"It's one less person for you to worry about. You hate me anyway, so just do it!" She lunged at him, slamming her fist hard on his chest.

Lucas reeled and grabbed her wrist, dodged the second fist and spun her around to keep from getting hit again.

She used the spin to throw them both off balance. They fell to the ground and grappled, hitting, kicking, biting, all out wrestling. Lucas pulled her hair when she shoved her knee into his ribs. She caught his shirt and yanked, rolling them both over, and kicked out. He instantly caught her foot and rolled her over twice until she was on her back and he was straddling her waist. He pinned her arms to the ground to save his own face from becoming a target. "No, Sam!"

"Get off me!"

"I know what you're going to do next anyway, so don't even bother." He locked his knees to keep her from pushing him off.

"Why not?!" she struggled against him.

"Because I'm not in the habit of killing my friends!"

That one phrase hit like someone had dropped an ice cube down the back of her shirt. She stopped struggling, waiting for the ice cube to melt as she looked in his face, searching for the lie, but for all she could see in the blues of his eyes, she couldn't find one. "What?" she whispered.

He let her go and wiped at his lip. "You're my friend, Samantha," he said, looking at this dark haired Scottish woman and taking in the fact that he could look at her, touch her, and not be a sensory part of it. "All this time we've been forced together like this has made me realize it."

Samantha didn't know what to say. She'd been all prepared, and even tried to fight him, but here he was, turning her normal fight-it-out plans upside-down, and she didn't have a script for this one. She sat up. "Why," she stuttered, "why haven't you said anything before?

"I didn't know what to say before," he shrugged, then shifted his gaze to a shell on the sands. "I thought you hated me, too. And I guess--well-- I got jealous."

"Jealous?" she nearly laughed. "Of what?"

Lucas turned his attention back to the still calm seas, as if they held the answers. "Nah, it's stupid."

"No, Lucas. Tell me."

Lucas let out a breath. "It's just that when I see you and the captain, it seems he's closer to you than he was to me--even though you're here, using my voice," he gestured non-chalantly to her. The captain was becoming more to him than just a captain. He was the father figure Lucas greatly needed, and deep down, wanted.

"The captain didn't want me here in the first place except for the fact that he trusted Malcolm's judgment," she tried to console, picking up that sense of need from him.

"At least you wanted to come here. My father dumped me on this boat because he thought I was out of control and he wanted to teach me discipline," he snorted. "Get me out of his hair is more like it. When the captain found out I was living here, he wasn't exactly thrilled. I don't fit in here, Sam. You do."

"Funny, I thought it was the other way around," she answered softly, looking away.

Lucas blinked at her curiously.

"I've seen the way the captain acts around you--how everyone acts--and it's not just because you're a teenager. I think you remind him of something he's lost," she paused a moment, but held his gaze. "I can see exactly what you see, but I don't understand how you could miss that."

Lucas looked guiltily away and stood. He knew she was right.

She paused, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, then she chuckled. "'Lucas Wolenczak, the boy genius.' How could I compete with that?" She dug her toes in the sand.

The only sounds he could hear were the gentle swish of the breeze through the palm trees, and the sweeping of the sea as the water moved undaunted before them. He thought perhaps she was joking. Perhaps?

"Is that what you think?"

"What else could I think? After a while I realized I couldn't compete, so I gave you a hard time and tried to convince myself to hate you." She glanced at him, then back at the hands of the lagoon forced apart by the intrusion of the ocean. "It didn't work."

"I guess we made each other's lives pretty miserable, huh," he allowed.

"Guess so."

Lucas kept the silence a second longer, brushing sand from his cloths. "I'm sorry for saying I hated you."

Samantha felt calmed and warmed from the genuine truth and let him know. "Apology accepted."

He let that calm relax him from the confessions. "It was only natural that we'd fight for territory."

"True, Yeah," she agreed, letting this go and brushing off her own cloths as she stood. "We're both stubborn, you're a bit arrogant."

"It didn't help your I.Q was nearly as high as mine."

She caught the self-pride in that and laughed. "Oh, I see how it is," she chuckled. "Twenty-two points off. So I wasn't some child prodigy who graduated Magna-cum-laude from Stanford," she mocked.

"Hey, I least I didn't graduate from Berzerkley," he smirked.

She laughed. "So sue me," a small smile creased her lips.

The one thing she wanted from her experience here was to be normal like everyone else--to belong--so joshing about her intelligence had remained simply jokes that could be laughed off and forgotten.

Lucas agreed. "Ok. But I'm not a child." No matter what, he still had to defend that for some reason.

"So I've noticed," she uttered automatically.

Lucas quickly looked at her, cleared his throat, and narrowed his eyes.

Samantha cringed. "Oh, sorry. Did I say that out loud?"

First he was embarrassed, but laughter quickly replaced that. "I was wondering how long it would take before you made some remark. It took longer than I thought." He ran his fingers through his hair and gazed out over the crystal clear waters.

"As if you could do better if this were switched. I slipped, that's all." She tucked hair behind her ear, forcing herself not to blush.

"Again," he added loosely. He wasn't intentionally provoking her responses, but he prepared himself to be berated from getting a kick out of them anyway, and was surprised when she didn't reply. For a moment, he thought something had gone terribly wrong.

Samantha turned to him and glanced to her feet, then to him. "Look--I'm sorry for what I said earlier today, Lucas. We, um, we kind of got off on the wrong foot--literally. I was an idiot back in med bay." She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing they'd grow into a cocoon and envelope her. "I shouldn't have taken over like that, but I panicked. I was…I am afraid," she looked up at him, then away, "afraid that I'll never get out of this and be stuck here forever--In you."

"No, no, we're gonna get you back. I promise," he assured. He placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed lightly. Knowing through sense more than words that she was being honest, he understood, as he'd felt that way himself and expressed it before in the past.

"I want to go back," she uttered simply. "I just...I wanna walk with my own two feet again."

"You will."

"I'm a parasite to you," she stuttered, her emotions heightening. "I'm using you to survive. Lucas, without you,... I'm dead."

"I won't let you die."

Samantha found so much power in that one phrase that it forced her to stop and think. With apprehension, unsure of just how to act with him, she let his hands remain on her shoulders.

He felt the warmth and smoothness of her skin beneath his own, though knew all this was just a dream--just a memory of what use to be reality.

Yet he was still halfway expecting her to throw the comfort aside and yell at him for simply touching her. But she didn't move. She just quietly accepted it, even leaned into it. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close in an embrace of comforting understanding.

It had been so long since anyone had hugged her, she feared she'd forgotten what to do, so she simply rested her head on his chest, doing nothing to push him away. Oddly enough, she felt soothed, and found that she liked it. She could hear his heart faintly beating and realized the same rhythm pulsed in her own chest. It struck her suddenly that she trusted him, more so than anyone else. Falling had never been an option for her, but now she didn't have much choice. Giving in to that feeling, she allowed the tears she'd been sheltering to fall.

What Dr. Levin had described as a gift, Lucas had immediately appointed a curse. But the more he was getting to know her, the more that curse idea was crumbling away like the grains of sand on this beach. It was his fault that she was caught between life and death, yet it was only him that was keeping her from death.

For an instant, he let her fear steep with his own guilt, let it swirl and mix until he understood just how afraid she was, and how much of that fear belonged to him. Yet there was something else there he hadn't noticed strongly before, or even expected--something bordering on completeness.

Slowly she pulled away from him and wiped at her damp eyes. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked softly.

"For this," she gestured loosely at the dreamscape, "for crying. I should be stronger than that." She walked over to sit on a broken log and wiped more tears from her eyes. He followed and sat beside her.

"It's not completely horrible," he allowed, leaning forward and clasping his hands.

Samantha gave him a confused look and laughed lightly. "Excuse me?"

"Ok, so at first it was," he admitted. "But look what we've done since then. The vocorder's nearly fixed, and we've managed to repair bits and pieces of the computer faster than either of us could alone. Aside from using the same pair of hands, we make a pretty good team."

She blinked at the multiple use of the term 'we' and shifted slightly. "You really think so?"

"Yeah. Well, it's not like I can ignore you."

Samantha smiled and took a long look at this person who, not more than five days ago, was mostly a stranger to her. "So we're even."

"Yeah, I guess so."

The pause held a little longer. "Sorry about the lip."

He dabbed at his split lip where her nail had connected in the fight. "It's ok. It'll heal. It's not real anyway."

She knew when she woke up her reality would change drastically, and she wouldn't be able to look at Lucas as she now did--without having to look in a mirror. "You're ok, Lucas."

"Thanks," Lucas grinned and glanced at her a moment, holding her there in his memory, then looked back to the smooth moon lit lagoon.

They held the silence for a moment longer, watching a seagull soar across the water toward the cottage. "So," she began, testing new waters known as conversation. "Tell me about this thing with the car and the bear."

"hm?" he raised an eyebrow and looked at her curiously.

"You were dreaming about a limo and a stuffed bear before you wandered into mine," she explained, her demeanor more casual like a--well--a friend to a friend.

"You saw that?"

She nodded.

"Oh, uhm, see, when I was little, my mom gave me this bear I called Ridley--ya know, the kind that ended up with only one eye and half the original stuffing. I drug that thing with me everywhere I went..."

She smiled, listening to him tell one of his brighter childhood memories. Though he kept going on about driving all the way back to the airport to find a missing bear, there was something else about his previous dream that had caused her to question the barriers he never let down, and to wonder what would give him such a dark nightmare that was strong enough for him to subconsciously shut out.

She'd ask about it later. For now, the adventures of a little Lucas and a Ridley bear would do just fine.

tbc. Edited for language content


	9. Chapter Nine

**Nine**

_The next day..._

It was hotter than high noon on the summer equinox in the middle of a seven year drought. And Katie had to sit in the middle of it. At least she wasn't alone. "We should have power to the engines soon, captain. Assuming this works at all."

"Jury-rig depends greatly on skill, craftsmanship and a lot of faith, Lt." Captain Bridger climbed down a metal ladder by where she crouched in the cramped corridor--this one not yet affixed with air conditioning. With the maglev down, it was all they had to get around the ship. "With enough of the latter, the other two will fall into place easily."

She gripped a fuse and yanked it out, picking up its replacement. "It's a mess. Some of these conduits have fused together. It's hard to see where one ends and another begins. All goes well, we'll be able to go topside in a couple more hours."

"Good job, Lt. Keep it up," he patted her shoulder in reassurance, and made his way to the bridge.

Tim turned from his station. "Sir, I'm intercepting a signal. It's Corvain. He's ordered two subs to reconvene on a direct course to our location."

Bridger's adrenaline spiked. "How long till they get here?"

"Approximately one hour."

"Keep me informed. Make sure we don't loose that connection."

"Aye, sir," Tim obeyed.

Bridger wiped dirty sweat from his brow. "Commander, I want updates of our progress every five minutes. Get as much power as you can to navigation so we can steer ourselves out of this hole. Use whatever you have to."

"Yes, sir."

Bridger walked to the pool where Darwin had been watching the goings on of the Bridge. He rubbed the dolphin's rubbery melon, then leaned on the edge, feeling resolution slip away. He sighed lightly. "Damn." This was his fault, his mess. If he had been more careful, they wouldn't have walked into that trap. As the captain, he was responsible for everyone on board, and he felt that responsibility strongly when any of them were in trouble. He should have seen it coming.

Darwin chirped and whistled at him, and even though the vocorder was still partially inoperable, Bridger knew comfort when he heard it. He knew his dolphin better than any machinery ever could.

Deftly, he turned at the sound of sneakers thumping on deck plating, and forced himself to return to the real world.

"Captain," Lucas ran onto the bridge and stopped to catch his breath.

"Lucas, why didn't you use the PAL?"

"The battery died and I couldn't find a spare." he answered between breaths. "We did it."

"The VRN?"

"Up and running. I realized last night what the problem was, well, aside from some fried circuits. Jeffries took the layers of KL-24p from the wires in order to cause the surge. We've been down there all morning repairing it, so it's isolated from the rest of the ship." He took a breath, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Bridger nodded, an idea forming in his brain. "We may need it. Ortiz."

"Sir?"

"Do we have weapons?"

"Just came online, sir."

"Good. Keep sensors on those subs and tell me if either of them changes course or speed. If they even flinch, I wanna know about it."

"Aye sir."

Bridger turned to Lucas. "Can you wire it into navigation, propulsion and weapons?"

_You want him to slave the systems?_ Samantha's image looked from Lucas to the captain.

She blinked but Lucas spoke. "Uhm, Yeah, I can do that." He's planning something extreme, I know it.

"Get on it."

Lucas waited for an explanation, but from the captain's look, he figured he wasn't going to get one any time soon. "Ok." Lucas turned to go, but held back. _Man, he looks like hell_. "Are you all right?"

Nathan gave a forced half grin. "I should be asking you that question."

"It's not your fault." Because of Samantha's feminine nature, he put in more soothing emphasis than he intended, and hoped the captain didn't notice.

Nathan faced the young sixteen-Year-old. "Is that Sam talking, or you?"

He'd noticed. "It's me, but she agrees with me. Sir, there's no way you could have known any of this would happen."

"I know."

Lucas faced the captain. "We're not going to quit on you. And I mean the crew this time." He chuckled. "Hell if _I'm_ gonna die at the bottom of the ocean in an oversized tin can," he joked, then turned and ran off the bridge back to D deck.

Nathan watched him go and envied the willful strength of youth. Lucas had taken on a glass-half-full approach and tried his hardest to remain strong in this crisis. He knew the boy had been put through many trials in his short life, and with this on top of being paired with the only other teenager on the boat, Nathan began to wonder who was being the role model for whom.

He smiled.

---------------------------------------------------------------

"Ok, that should do it." Lucas flipped the switch and the board lit up green. "Yes!" he clapped. "Oh Yeah, I'm good."

_You know, talking to yourself is getting a little redundant._

"I can always plea insanity."

Samantha laughed.

Lucas activated the spare PAL on the panel beside him. "We got it, captain."

"Just in time. Company's here." Bridger watched as the onboard sensors showed a hulking dark mass streaming through the water toward them.

"Why did they come back here?" Lucas asked.

"Maybe to finish the job. Get ready. We'll need everything you and Sam have."

"Aye, captain." The comlink beeped again and the transmission ended.

Commander Ford turned to the captain, his eyebrows arching questioningly. "Sir?"

Bridger let out a breath. "It's a long story."

"Can't wait to hear it," Ford answered in interest as he turned his attention back to the screen.

Lucas slipped the VR helm over his head and leaned back in the seat, his hand hovering over the activation button. He heard the captain's voice in his ear piece.

"On my signal, Lucas. No sooner."

"Yes, sir," Lucas replied with forced bravado.

"How are you doing?"

"A little nervous," Lucas answered.

"I'd be worried if you weren't," Bridger said, hoping that would make Lucas, and most likely Samantha, feel somewhat more comfortable with having to pilot the _SeaQuest_ on their own.

Tim's fingers went to his headset. "They'll be here in less than a minute."

"All of their tubes are flooded, sir," Miguel reported.

Bridger turned to Miguel. "All of them?"

"Yes sir. Sir, we only have firing capability for one, maybe two shots."

"I don't want any 'maybes', Lt. I want a confirmation. Can we fire two torpedoes?" Bridger's face had gone ridged, and the adrenaline in his blood began to rush.

Miguel feared the too long hesitation that lingered between the captain's question and his response. "Targeting grids can only contain one. The second has to be manual."

"So we make the first one count," Bridger nodded, mentally placing the pieces of this crippled chess game in his mind, and silently praying they'll only need the one. "Make sure nothing happens to the connection with Lucas. "

Miguel responded strongly and turned back to his consol.

Bridger pressed the com. "Lucas."

"I can hear you," his voice answered.

"We have one torpedo with targeting grids and one blinded. If you get the shot, take it, but make it good."

"Understood, sir," Lucas cut the com and sighed. "Sure. No pressure."

Samantha felt his growing apprehension and bit his lip. _You'll do fine,_ she whispered.

Lucas glanced to where she stood behind him, then back to the control panel. He thought he felt her hand rest on his shoulder in reassurance.

Bridger's voice came clear. "Now."

"Let's do it." Lucas pressed the activation button and immediately jerked back from a sudden sting to his temples as his vision switched from the yellow hued goggles to a tunnel of crystal clarity. The connection propelled him through a short wormhole of colors that whizzed passed him, swirling around him so fast he was feeling the pangs of vertigo. Then suddenly it opened outward like a flower and disappeared.

He looked out through the goggles at the virtual reality created around him, wrapped in awe at the realism. It was different than how Samantha had described it. Instead of being on the bridge, he found himself floating freely in the water. He could move, and breath, yet he found nothing was holding him in place. The sensations were too real to be a vision, and he wondered for a split second if he had been transported outside to the sea, then realized the experience must be unique to each individual connected to the VRN. It struck all five of his senses at once, bringing to mind the dreams of flying he use to have as a kid.

Shifting out of this trance, he concentrated on a matrix of translucent screens around him. The controls surrounded him like a digital glove. Propulsion, navigation, targeting and weapons controls were all laid out before him within easy reach. He felt as if he were in the core itself--a hacker's dream. He studied the controls around him, touching the propulsion screen lightly. It felt smooth as glass, and just as thin as air. The approaching sub was framed by a green box, the distance scrolling off as it counted down.

_Hello, Dorothy. Welcome to Oz._

He looked where the voice came from and saw Samantha next to him. He smirked. Nodding, he could only reply, "It's Breathtaking." Reaching out, he touched the glowing box of the approaching sub, affixing it with a red targeting reticule. "Enemy sub targeted, Captain."

"Prepare to fire tube two on my mark," Bridger ordered.

Lucas was about to respond when a rapid series of beeps caught his attention. Looking over his shoulder, he called out just before the main sensor officer reported the same. "Captain, we have another sub." He twisted in the surrealistic water with ease.

"Roger that, Lucas. Get ready to move us as fast as possible," he said, wincing slightly. With only two torpedoes--and one in bad shape--he knew immediately that he had a math problem. "Range on the second sub?" he called out.

"1,600 Meters," Tim informed.

"Lucas, concentrate on the first sub, when it gets into range, full speed ahead. Match bearings and fire. Sam, you keep track of the second sub. The moment it launches anything, inform me and we deal with the problem from there."

"Confirmed, Captain," Lucas said over the comm.

_Here we go._ The words were a prep for action in herself.

Lucas took a deep breath, clenching his hands into fists, and readied himself. His heart quickened with adrenaline and gave him a thrill of excitement.

_They're firing,_ Samantha announced quickly as she turned her head to Lucas.

"Hard to starboard," Bridger's voice came over the comm. "Lucas, bring us up to speed and open fire on the first sub."

Touching the control, he pressed the speed indicator up to full, and waited, but nothing happened. He swam forward to reach again for the indicator when he immediately felt the once dormant sub lurch to life. I must have to move for the boat to move. _Cool_, he thought.

He reached out and double tapped the first sub, a glowing green trail shot from his screen at the target. He veered off to the side as the two missiles approached quickly, aimed directly at him. Wide eyed, he swam hard, spinning once. The two torpedoes missed him by a margin, collided, and exploded in a shower of liquid fire. That's when it hit him like a ton of bricks.

He _was_ the ship.

In reality, the only fully functioning weapon the _SeaQuest_ held shot out of the tube through the water. The sub attempted to veer away, but its sluggishness allowed it to narrowly avoid a direct hit. Clouds of explosion erupted from their starboard engines, leaving them dead in the water.

Bridger nearly cheered when he saw the first sub heel under by the impact. Sonar reported sounds of water flooding the rear compartments and that the sub was sinking rapidly.

Samantha glanced at a screen to her left. The second sub is firing two torpedoes. Old fashioned Mark 80's from what the computer is telling me

"Captain, we have two fish in the water, Mark 80's from the look of them," Lucas repeated.

However, when Bridger heard Lucas' report he nearly swore. The Mark 80 was designed to be tough to shake. "Lucas, blow the ballasts and bring us above the temperature barrier," he ordered.

"Sir," Lucas swam up as another sphere of controls encompassed him, "that torpedo will follow us right through."

"Exactly."

Both teenagers exchanged glances. Samantha gave the smallest semblance of a smile.

Lucas grinned as he realized what the captain had planned, and immediately touched the controls to blow the ballast tanks, angling the now rapidly rising sub away. He looked up and saw a red mesh--the temperature barrier--in a quickly approaching grid. The second he passed through it, he heard Samantha report from below him.

Torpedoes lost their acquisition.

Quickly he swiveled in the water and kicked hard away from the mesh. The controls followed. In sync with his movements, the large--yet surprisingly agile sub--turned back around to its new heading, and just in time. Not two seconds passed when the torpedoes burst through where Lucas had been, their primitive onboard sonar searching for their target and--finding it behind them--turned around to reestablish the signal, but lost their target again as Lucas dove the sub back below the barrier. Doing only what they were programmed to do, they plunged after it.

Lucas willed the stressed engines of the _SeaQuest_ to push just a bit faster. In front of him, the second sub grew larger. "Sam where are the torpedoes?" he asked, growing anxious.

_200 Meters...and gaining_, her voice echoed with rising fear and tension.

Lucas looked ahead, and although he sounded calm, he felt the exact opposite. "Oh, the enemy sub is a lot closer than that."

_It's what!?_ she yelled, concentrating on the now large sub ahead of them _Lucas, you bonehead, your gonna hit that thing!_

"Not today, Sam!" he yelled back, and made a quick dip, bringing the _SeaQuest's_ nose beneath the enemy sub, wincing as he heard a few scrapes and clangs as he traded _SeaQuest's_ paint with the other sub. He felt the thing skid along his back and grit his teeth. Opening the comlink with the other sub, he reported with a smart-alec grin, "Hey buddy, I think you lost these."

_Yes!_

The _SeaQuest_ speed away as the two torpedoes slammed into the sub, cutting it in half.

The bridge erupted in cheers as the onboard sensors showed the second sub's destruction. Pockets of air spewed in great bubbles from the sub that billowed toward the surface far above.

Slowing the _SeaQuest_ down to a slow crawl and leveling it back out, Lucas stopped and took a quick second to close his eyes and pat himself on the back. The back of his flannel shirt had a rip in it. "Ah, great," he cursed.

_Not bad flying, Wolenczak_, Samantha said, and turned back to her air consol. _So, uh, tell me, what do you plan to do about him?_

Snapping his eyes open he looked in horror as the first sub rose back up out of the depths to eye level. The VR system showed heavy damage, but also that one torpedo tube was still open.

"Captain..."

A bright stream of red light cut through the water like butter, aiming directly for the bow of the ship--directly toward Lucas' head.

"Brace for impact!" Bridger yelled. Everyone grabbed hold of something bolted down. Most just clung to their stations.

In a moment of panic, Lucas swam up as fast as he could, willing the ship to follow his movements. He felt something burn past his foot and spun quickly, but the torpedo had already turned and was racing toward him again. Lucas had enough time to shut his eyes before it slammed into him--the underbelly of the _SeaQuest_. He lurched back and rolled in the water, feeling as if he were on fire.

Outside the VR system, Lucas doubled over in pain.

_Lucas!_ Samantha swam up to him. _Lucas, are you all right?_

He fought for breath, and thought he saw blood in the virtual world. Protectively, he wrapped his arm over his stomach.

"I'm ok. I'm fine," he gasped, but his middle hurt like hell. He had no idea he would be this connected with the computer that he would feel whatever the ship experienced. He gathered his courage. "Thank god for armor. The targeting systems--Sam, get the manual controls and target the sub. We'll only get one shot at this."

Samantha looked worriedly at him a moment, not wanting to leave him, but knew this was the VR--all in his mind.

"I'll be fine. Go."

She set her jaw and nodded, turning away. Manual controls online. Activating sensor grid. Her fingers flew over the wispy air controls. A green grid appeared before her with the enemy sub outlined in orange. She reached out to grip the controls to zero in on it, but saw Lucas' hand instead.

In reality, Lucas' hand extended out, mimicking her motions. His palms began to sweat. They had traded places.

Lucas' watched as she gripped the controls, following the sub until the reticule had locked on, blinking in ready. He felt a sense of reassurance and guiltless support from her, and his resolve tightened.

"Target locked on."

Bridger glared at the sub's image on the main screen, his jaw tight. "Fire."

He felt a pulse as the second torpedo sped through the water toward its target.

Both teenagers watched eagerly for impact, when at once an alarm sounded from the consol and the torpedo dropped off onto another course. "It's lost the target." Lucas swam up to the consol and peered intently at it as he worked the controls feverishly, his hands shifting quickly from one to another. "Reestablishing the connection." Two more reticules appeared, both settling over the primary one as his fingers flew over the controls, rerouting power to the manual systems. In seconds, both lit up green. "Target reestablished!"

Samantha bit his lip.

The operator of the enemy sub used his stolen VRN system in an attempt to avoid the weapon, but the vessel was too old to contend with his quick commands. The operator screamed as a bright streak of green light sped toward him.

In a plume of fire, the torpedo ripped through the sub's hull like a dagger, cutting a gash large enough to expose the innards of the ship, while decompression made quick work of the rest. Reverberations of the explosion resounded through the water.

"Yeah! Woohoo!" Lucas threw off the goggles, cheering. "We did it!" he leapt up and hugged an equally exuberant image of Samantha. Part of him was glad no one was in the room.

Immediately, the _SeaQuest_ crew erupted into a roar of applause. People patted each other on the back, and some threw their arms into the air, while others just clapped hard; all thankful they had survived.

"Great job, kid," Bridger happily spoke into the comm.

Samantha would have kissed him if she could, she was so happy. "Thank you, Captain."

Lucas took a deep breath, suddenly remembering the blast the ship took and quickly lifted his shirt to check his stomach, but saw no wounds. He heaved a sigh of relief. "Wow..." He flopped back into the chair and glanced to Samantha. "Why do you get the easy one?"

She could only chuckle.

No one on the bridge heard the booted footsteps approaching a joyful Nathan.

"Captain, we have a problem," Dr. Levin stood with a heavy leather bound book in his arms. Yellow post-it notes marked numerous places in the pages.

"What is it?" Bridger turned to him, regaining his composer.

Levin pulled him even further away to talk privately. "We need to separate them soon or they'll merge. It might even be too late."

"Merge? What do you mean?"

"A person's identity--their personality--is what defines them as being an individual. Samantha and Lucas have been sharing the same body for a week. If they remain trapped together for much longer, they may become too integrated into one another to separate without being harmed."

All exuberance left Nathan and his color paled. "You mean..."

"There's a chance we'll loose one, if not them both."

---------------------------------------------------------------

Lucas paced the captain's quarters running his hands through his hair, more than a little agitated. "What do you mean no one on this ship can do anything? What about Dr. Levin? Isn't his specialty the paranormal? He has to know something."

A moment ago, he was the happiest person on earth, but as of fifteen seconds ago, nearly every piece of joy he'd felt evaporated like steam from boiling water. He felt the weight of weariness press on him as soon as he'd been told the news.

Bridger and Westphalen both watched him pace back and forth, each wondering in their own way what to do, and both knowing only one answer.

"Levin does know of one way, Lucas, but it'll mean you'll have to leave the _SeaQuest_ for a while," Westphalen spoke up.

_Leave..._ Lucas finally stopped and gave her a resigned look. "Ok. Ok, so what it is?" he asked

The two adult scientists exchanged glances, then Bridger faced Lucas, speaking as though he were in a briefing. "It's an institute for the study of psychic phenomena."

Lucas couldn't have acted more surprised if he tried. "You're talking about the Chatton Parapsychology Center," he stated as he walked the space between the small chair and coffee table opposite the couch where he saw Samantha perched on the back.

Bridger nodded. "You know about it." Why was he not surprised?

The teenager stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, I know about it. Their security system is almost as advanced as a priority-one UEO file."

Westphalen stared at him, her voice sharpening. "Don't say what I think you're going to say."

_You hacked into their system?_ Samantha smiled. _Sweet. Hope it was worth it._

"It was a long time ago," he argued, feeling as if he had to clear this case. "I didn't take anything, I just did it just to see if I could. And...I won fifty bucks from Wolfman."

Kristin's irritability showed as she rolled her eyes and rubbed her hands on her pant legs lightly. "All legality in past aggressions aside, we both think it's the best course of action for you two to take."

Lucas blinked, withdrawing his hands. "You're going to send us to a bunch of spoon-benders?"

"Right now, those 'spoon-benders' may be your only chance," Kristin added.

"Great. So I become a guinea pig for the next 'Wonders in Spyer Science' convention." Lucas flopped down into the chair and leaned against his hand for a moment almost pensively, his eyes down and off at an angle to the distance.

"They have resources and techniques that are more effective than anything we have on the _SeaQuest_." Nathan approached Lucas calmly and rested a hand against the back of the chair in which Lucas sat.

"Do you wanna talk to Sam?" Lucas breathed.

Nathan nodded. "Sure."

Samantha glanced up with Lucas' eyes for less than a moment.

"I'm sorry, Kiddo."

She nodded his head, accepting it but keeping his eyes on a ship-in-a-bottle sitting on a table against the far wall. "Sounds like you've figured it out. What could you do?"

"Levin told us what happened in his quarters. You did what you could and you tried, Lucas, that's all that matters," Bridger consoled, taking a seat in front of the dispirited teenager.

"It's Sam," Samantha dropped Lucas' voice to a near whisper. "Lucas is resting."

Bridger patted Lucas' leg, keeping in mind that the one he was addressing was use to being a woman, and use to actions like that. "I wish there was some way to tell which of you was speaking so I wouldn't feel like such an idiot," he tried with a small grin.

Samantha glanced up at Bridger with Lucas' blue eyes and a serious mien. "We're going to be stuck like this forever, aren't we."

"You know that's not true," Westphalen interjected.

"Yes it is," Samantha snapped, sitting up. "The transfer can't happen because my brain's been fried, there's no way to get back except for a bunch of psychics who probably have no idea what to do anyway, so all I have is the rest of my life in the body of someone I've known for only two months with the original owner still occupying it."

"You haven't merged yet," Nathan began, exuding hope in that statement.

"Yet," Samantha allowed. "But we're sharing each other's dreams now, and switching control is becoming easier every day, and when we used the VR--," she stopped. She couldn't tell them how detailed the experience had been. "Tell me that's not a bad sign."

Bridger stood, setting his jaw. "Give it a chance to at least see if it works. If not we'll try again, and again, and if that doesn't work we'll try something else, but I'm not giving up on you, Lucas."

"_I'm not Lucas, I'm Sam!"_ Samantha shot up and slammed Lucas' fist down on the table, rattling the glass set there before the meeting. "Samantha Haley Kinkade, born April 18th, 2000 to a Lawyer and an Egyptologist in San Francisco!" she jabbed a finger at Lucas' chest. "Speak to me like I'm here!" She paused, taking a breath and speaking softer, her--his--voice quivering slightly. "Speak to me like I have an identity."

There was silence for a moment. The thrum of the ship's engines grew to encompass the entire room in a thickened liquid sound.

"You do have an identity, Samantha, and that's what separates you from Lucas," Westphalen broke the uncomfortable edge and stood as well, facing Lucas as he turned away. She could tell that he--or rather Samantha--was trying to hold back emotion because she was biting his lip hard enough to turn it white.

Bridger gently placed his hand on Lucas' shoulder. "Go to the institute. If anything, it might help you learn how to deal with this."

Samantha turned toward Bridger, peering into his eyes, then did something Lucas would have never done--she laid his head against the captain's chest. "I'm afraid. I don't want to die," Lucas' voice trembled as well as his body as the tears she was fighting failed to remain in check. She felt Lucas emerge slowly from the depths of his mind as he came awake, but didn't move. She didn't want to move. She needed understanding and comfort, and the captain had given it to her.

Nathan wrapped his arm around the youth, reminding himself it was Samantha, and rubbed Lucas' back in comfort. "We won't leave you. You can trust us on that, Samantha," he told her softly, reminded of just how much he missed being a father, and as such how much he missed his own son, Robert. Lucas had adopted Bridger as his surrogate father, though both never actually voiced it. And now he felt that--although he held one--he now had two children to guard, two people who turned to him when they could go nowhere else.

Lucas slid back into control and looked up, briefly wondering why he was crying. He pulled away, wiping at the unexpected tears and wrestled with what bits he'd caught of their conversation. "Uhm...," he began

Bridger cocked an eyebrow. "Lucas?" he asked, making sure it was really him.

"Yeah, here. I was just..." _Was I asleep? Ah man, I must have zoned._ He wiped a tear off his cheek, somewhat confused, "Why am I crying?"

"Samantha got a little emotional." Westphalen moved to stand by the captain. "You don't remember any of what just happened?" she asked curiously, shaking her head slightly with worry.

Lucas frantically searched his memory, finding bits and pieces of the conversation that--when put together--made absolutely no sense. "Er...some." He sighed in irritation. "She does this to me sometimes--messes with my emotions. When I feel her getting oversensitive, I sit back and ride it out. It's kinda what I use to do with my mom when she'd rant to my dad."

Bridger felt now he was on safer ground. "We heard what Samantha thought, but what about you?"

"What, the institute? If it's the last chance we have, then I'm game. Just tell me what to do," Lucas stated assuredly, feeling the familiar tingle that was Samantha solidify into an image only he could see.

She stood beside him, wiping at her eyes. Sorry. I'm with you. Really, I am, Luke, she turned away and looked out the windows, arms folded across her chest. It surprised her a little that he hadn't objected to being called Luke.

"She agrees," Lucas relayed, then looked after her, ignoring the others in the room for a brief moment, and--to them--looked to be talking to thin air. "Ok, but you didn't have to cry about it."

_I know, but I think I needed it, her image turned to him. Or rather, you needed it. We've been through hell, Lucas. A few tears never hurt anyone._

"Maybe in private."

Samantha pasted on a half grin, determined to bring herself out of this sudden dejected hole she'd dug in the last few minutes. _Come on. Don't tell me you don't feel like someone just took an anvil off your shoulders._

Lucas had to give her the benefit of the doubt. He did feel better. "All right. Ok."

Bridger simply waited, watching until the teen turned back to them.

Lucas took a deep breath. "When do we leave?"

"In two days."

Lucas glanced at them, scratched the back of his neck in thought, then stuck his hands in his pockets and resigned a shrug of acceptance. "To Oz."

tbc


	10. Chapter Ten

**Ten**

_Two days later..._

"Earlier today, the business world had its foundations shaken with what seems to be the betrayal of one of its own."

The stiff, clean cut image of a reporter set down a stack of papers and folded her manicured hands on the clean wooden desktop, fastening the cameras with a dignified air. Her brown hair framed her oval face and crept along the collar of her apple red dress.

"Charges have been made linking the fortune five-hundred mining corporation owner, Edward Phalwell of Phalwell Industries, with dealings in smuggling black market technology and minerals to unallied nations. Investigators believe that he was directly involved with conspiracies in the UEO ranks, namely one ensign Maxwell Jeffries, and one Colonel Eric Corvain--an eight Year member of the navy, gone rouge after loosing his position as captain of the Laramis, where he joined the pirate faction "Winter's Raid," giving himself the title of colonel." The screen split to a video of the accused being led from a courthouse. "Though both Corvain and Jeffries were accused of the theft and distribution of outlawed technology for undersea mining, Phalwell denies any rumors linking him with the former captain, the UEO spy, or the recovered merchandise."

"In other news, the small town of Vinita, Oklahoma was devastated by a freak tornado this afternoon that wiped out a trailer park near the edge of town..."

Bridger severed the satellite link and turned to a stout man in the uniform of an admiral sitting at the head of the table. "Substantial evidence, and the government is still dancing with the lawyers. Makes you wonder when the world went mad."

Admiral Noyce leaned back and linked his fingers. "I've wondered that for Years, Nate, but no one's been able to give me a straight answer. We've got Phalwell in a corner and he knows it. Given time--and enough charges--he'll be repaying his debt to society behind bars."

"He deserves whatever he can get."

Noyce caught the venom behind the words and leaned forward as his long time friend set down the remote. "Is this about Lucas and the Kinkade girl? I thought they'd be patched up by now."

Bridger sat straight, though he looked as if he were the victim of a forced debriefing. "There's something I didn't tell you right off, Bill," he began, folding his hands on the table and preparing himself. "When Samantha was knocked unconscious during the test, it sent a surge of electricity through the system that blew the panel Lucas was working under."

Noyce spread his hands. "But they're all right?" He wondered where this was going.

"Lucas is, yes, but Samantha suffered major head trauma." Bridger hesitated, finding this hard to put to voice. "Her consciousness was transferred to Lucas just before the VRN blew. They've been sharing the same body for a week."

Now Noyce leaned back in thought as he willed himself to accept what he was told. Nathan wasn't one for tall tales and he knew this was no joke simply by the expression on his friend's face. "You mean to tell me that a malfunctioning piece of experimental technology is responsible for a sudden case of split personality?"

"Yes sir."

Noyce peered at his friend, seeing the captain's face remain as it was, and whistled. "Well, I'll be damned." He put a finger thoughtfully to his bottom lip, then suddenly leaned forward and poked the same finger at Bridger. "Then that's it. Once the psychic community finds out about this, Phalwell will have run out of places to hide and we'll have him right where we want him."

Nathan shook his head. "No, Bill. No one else can know. I shouldn't even have told you, but I trust you to keep this under wraps."

"But if it's the proof we need, then..."

"I can't, Bill." Bridger regarded his friend apologetically. "You have to understand that if any word of Lucas and Samantha get out, they'll never lead a normal life again."

"It could put Phalwell away for good."

"It'll ruin two of the most intelligent and promising people I've come to know," Bridger paused slightly, "and the world will loose something far more important that it will ever know."

Noyce faltered. As much as he wanted to debate this, he knew his friend was right, so he resigned the battle with acceptance. "So be it."

Bridger felt relieved and he leaned back, letting the admiral know how thankful he was by a look of gratefulness that was universal. He knew he could trust Noyce with anything, and reveled in the fact that the media and the rest of the world would remain in the dark--as two peoples' fate was better left to global ignorance.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

_Later that day_...

Darwin's sleek form glided past the clear, smooth tube running through Lucas' quarters and he bumped the glass with his beak as the teenager packed his bag. "Lucas leave?" the vocorder in his room relayed.

"Only for a while, Darwin. I'm coming back."

"Darwin wish Sam and Lucas good swim."

Samantha had to smile at that, and her image touched the glass. Her hand passed through. Thanks, Dar. Maybe it was her other half she picked up on, but she felt she was going to miss Darwin greatly.

"Thanks, Dar. Keep an eye on things, ok, pal?" Seeing the dolphin made his heart pang with sadness, for he didn't know how long it would be before he'd see his best friend again.

"Darwin be good!" the vocorder proclaimed as the dolphin barrel rolled in the water. "No need for sadness. Darwin see Lucas again." And with that, the dolphin chirped his own farewell missed by the translator, and swam out of sight.

Lucas stuffed another change of cloths from a pile sitting on his bed into his black _SeaQuest_ duffel bag. For some odd reason, he had everything folded and separated in order: shirts in one pile, pants, underwear and socks in another, and some other items sitting off to the side by themselves in a cluster of toiletries and computer disks. He slid the laptop into the side compartment of the bag, wondering how in the world she'd managed to get him to organize everything. He stuffed the disks in beside it and zipped it closed.

_It won't fit if you do it your way._ She sat cross-legged on the bed, watching him, but feeling every one of his movements as he packed.

"There's nothing wrong with my way. At least it doesn't look like my mother packed it." He stuffed in the pants and shirts and started on the pile of underwear.

_My mother never argued._ She rearranged the socks for him with one hand while he shoved the rest of the solid items in the bag. _It kept me from having to talk to her before I'd leave. Sometimes she got pretty nosy, ya know?_

"My hand, Sam." Flexing his hand, he pushed her back out of major control. "If it fits, it fits. I don't care." He punched the cloths, making sure they'd all fit, and reached under the bed, pulling out a box of books and packed four of them, then shoved it under the bed again. When he looked up, he saw a brown, beat up bear with a missing eye sitting on his bag. It had been sewn at the edge of the neck. Tentatively, he picked it up.

_I found it under the bed last night when you were sleeping. It coincided with your dream._ She watched through his eyes as they scanned the bear, turning it over in his hands.

"You never told me you sleepwalked." He put the bear on the bed and packed the rest of his things. He moved across the room to the shelf and took down a few disks.

She shrugged. _I never thought I'd be here long enough for it to matter. You have your quirks too, Lucas Wolenczak._

He didn't answer but continued packing. His hand ran across the bear's soft fur.

Samantha took over his right hand and picked it up once more--her image mimicking Lucas' movement--though he hesitated. _Take it._

"Guys don't sleep with bears," he argued and tried to put it down, but couldn't move his arm. He tried to force it down. _Let go, Sam._

She withdrew from control. _Then let me take it. That nightmare was freaky, ok? I might want something to cuddle if you put me through that again._

Lucas placed the bear in the bag with a sigh and zipped it closed. "I swear if anyone catches me sleeping with a one eyed bear, I might as well tattoo 'Mama's Boy' to my forehead."

He shouldered the bag as Samantha silently laughed, picked up the duffel and guitar case from her quarters, and climbed the short steps out of his room. Looking back once more, he closed the door behind him.

Lucas entered the launch bay and was immediately greeted by five people. The captain, Admiral Noyce, Westphalen, Ben and Tim all silenced their conversations as Lucas approached. Apparently Bridger had ordered everyone out of the bay so it was relatively empty. "Admiral? What are you guys doing here?"

"You didn't think we were going to let you leave without saying good-bye, did you?" Ben said meeting Lucas in the middle. He regarded the guitar case hanging from Lucas' hand. "Nice."

Lucas shrugged. "She wouldn't leave without it."

Ben patted him on the shoulder. "Have fun."

"Oh Yeah," Lucas said sarcastically, "all night parties till the cows come home."

Tim moved forward and shook his free hand. "We'll miss you, buddy. Take care." He cleared his throat. "Um, Sam, _tha mi an dochas nach fhada gu an till iad_. [I hope it won't be long until you return."

Samantha smiled and chuckled slightly. "I hope so, too, Tim. _Toiradh_. [good-bye." she said, then ignored Lucas' objections as she hugged Tim, who faltered a bit at the sudden--if brief--show of affection.

Lucas backed away with an embarrassed smile, said, "See ya," and climbed the steps to the launch. Tim glanced to Ben, who couldn't quite contain a small bout of chuckles.

Admiral Noyce held out his hand. "That's one hell of a story. Good luck, son."

"Thank you, sir," he said, taking the admiral's hand before turning to the captain and Dr. Westphalen.

"Come along, Lucas. I'll meet you down there," Kristin put a hand reassuringly on Lucas' shoulder before descending the metal ladder.

Lucas glanced to Tim and Ben--who gave loose salutes good-bye--then to the captain. He took a deep breath, building his strength to face the unknown territory of a psychic institution, and stepped up to the ladder. Nervousness broke through that wall of strength and he realized that his palms had been sweating. "Let's do it."

He passed the black vinyl guitar case down and gripped the ladder with both hands, flexing his fingers, then stepped into the roomy sea launch. Bridger climbed down after him and took his seat up front with Kristin, both passing looks of hope through a silent conversation. The servos whirred as the doors to the launch bay clamped shut and locked, separating air from ocean. With the exterior chamber pressurized and the outer launch bay doors opened, the sea craft shot through the doors out into the open sea smooth as silk, speeding away from the long undersea vessel.

Samantha sat to his right, worrying her face with her hands. Lucas mimicked her motions like a twin. She turned toward the back of the sea launch and forced his eyes to follow that of her image's. Out of curiosity, he allowed it, though when he did, he felt a slip of fear from her. In the back, partially seen from their seats, was a medical gurney on which lay the still, lifeless body of a young brown-haired woman. Her face was placid and peaceful.

Slowly he got up and walked to the back, peaking around the corner for a better look, though almost wished he hadn't. His breath seized up at the sight of Samantha, for this was the first time since the accident he'd laid eyes on her. He stepped closer to the side of the bed while Samantha's image stayed at the door.

_Don't make me go any nearer_, she breathed. _Please_.

"We're going to have to some day," he muttered softly. He stared at her for a moment, just trying to take everything in. Cautiously, he reached down and touched Samantha's hand, waves of apprehension flowing through him at the simple tactile sensation. His skin tingled, burned as her consciousness surged through his hand from the touch, and she made him inhale, overwhelmed from the impression it sent through his fingers.

He forced his eyes to look at her face, her smooth features, still lips, closed unmoving eyes. Lost in the motions, he slowly withdrew his hand as the sense of Samantha's fear turned to a numb realization.

Samantha's image stood next to him, looking down at herself. How dead she looked. Utterly lifeless and pale, like a porcelain doll. She felt Lucas' heart beat quicken. Never in her life had she thought she'd ever be looking at herself from the other side of her own skin, or from the eyes of another.

"Lucas."

He jumped at the sound of his own name.

Kristin put a hand on his shoulder and spoke calmly. "Why don't you go sit down now?"

Lucas looked at her, saw the caring in her eyes, and turned away back to the seating area.

Westphalen glanced from Samantha's body to Lucas, and wondered just how it felt to look at your own face and question if you were dead. A part of her didn't ever want to know.

Lucas sat down and gazed through the window at the massive form of the _SeaQuest DSV_ steadily shrinking, melding into the dark blue waters of the ocean depths until--as he watched--it became no more than a blur, a speck--

Nothing.

tbc


	11. Part Three: Weave of Souls

_**SeaQuest**_

**Part 3**

**"Weave of Souls"**

_Chatton Parapsychology Center, Florida. The next day_...

Lucas dropped his duffel bag onto a small yet comfortable single bed in one of the upper dormitories on the spacious Chatton campus. The bed was stiffly made, the edges of the dark green blanket tucked under in the hospital manner, and a single white pillow leaned casually against the knotted wire headboard.

Placing Samantha's guitar case in a corner, he spun on his heal and flopped backwards onto the mattress. The box springs creaked in revolt and he bounced slightly at impact. Content, he sighed.

Finally, after four hours of traveling in the cramped space of the sea launch, then a personal UEO jet to Florida from San Francisco, and a nap, he was grateful for the time alone. No adults, no medical staff, no great-and-powerful psychics--and if they could sense him now, he didn't care--and no comments from the ever-present still small voice in the back of his head.

The image of the owner of that voice lay in the same relaxed position beside him, also reveling in the quiet luxury of personal space.

The room was small, built to accommodate one person comfortably, had a small kitchenette to the left of the front door, a quaint living area filled with new-age style furniture--mostly with arching design, a short hall beside the kitchen which harbored the bathroom, and directly across the living area from that was the door to the bedroom. Lucas had this hanging open for he knew he would be the only one staying here. Captain Bridger had specifically requested Lucas have some privacy, and the sixteen-year-old happily agreed.

Soft sunlight danced in patterns on the small writing desk beneath the multi-pained window while it glided to the light gray carpet. The leaves of the Eucalyptus tree outside displaced the rays of white/gold light.

_You hear that?_ Samantha's voice whispered through his mind.

He listened, eyes closed, body relaxed to the sweeping sounds of a cool late January breeze rustling through the tree leaves, and the monotonous, subtle whir of a white ceiling fan. He took in a deep breath, not of his own power, but was too engrossed in the blessed serenity of the moment to care.

"Silence," they both said in unison.

He wished it could last forever.

Lucas saw Samantha sit up and felt her want to do so, but remained as he was, hands clasped above his head, determined to keep the moment.

_I miss total silence--just closing my eyes and thinking of nothing._

_You did that a lot at Caicos Key._

_It was a nice way to relax. I found I could think more clearly._ Her image lay back down. _No doubt you could use a few lessons._

_Why? Do the voices in my head bother you?_

_Yes_.

Lucas grinned.

Captain Bridger and Dr. Westphalen had stayed until he'd settled in, then left him alone to his own devices--which was nice because they hadn't let him do that very much in the past.

Just when he was getting comfortable in his new found atmosphere of no-sound, a short series of rapid beeps forced him back to the reality of intrusive technology. He briefly considered disconnecting his dorm room from the rest of the campus.

_Don't get it._

The vidcom beeped again insistently. Lucas groaned and got up, walking the short paces to the desk and took a seat in the round spoke-backed chair facing the window. Deftly, he depressed the "answer" button. What he saw on the screen didn't put that extra ray of sunshine into his life.

"Hello, Lucas." The middle-aged face of Lawrence Wolenczak filled the majority of the screen with the sights of an active control room for an underwater energy facility buzzing in the background. Clearly the World Power command station in Australia.

"Hi, dad," Lucas responded casually, and was aware that Samantha could feel his instant fatigued annoyance. He caught an unspoken Gaelic curse of hexing and answered it with an equally silent feeling of 'Leave it alone.' So, Samantha just sat back and watched.

"I'm sorry for not contacting you sooner, but things got a little hectic over here." the older man apologized.

_Sure you are._ Lucas felt he did that a lot when he called, and it irritated him even more. "So what drug you out of your hectic schedule to call me?"

"Do I need a reason to talk to my son?"

"Most times," Lucas muttered. "How'd you find me?"

"Captain Bridger informed me of your new assignment."

Samantha stiffened, and in response, Lucas' stomach muscles clenched. "What did he tell you?" Lucas asked. _Sam, calm down._

"He didn't say much, just that the psychics were heavily involved and you were a key element to the success of their current project."

_He's abstract. I'll give him that._ Samantha's image crossed her arms, and she forced his heart rate to slow.

Lucas had to agree with her.

"I thought I'd wish you luck, and tell your mother how you were doing," Lawrence continued.

"Thanks. Tell her I'm fine and I'll talk to her around Valentine's Day."

Lawrence nodded, but his response was delayed, and Lucas knew what this meant. "You're not going to see me for Valentine's Day, are you," he tried to hide the disappointment in his voice, but with Samantha's conflicting emotions, it was harder than usual.

Lawrence must have picked it up for he looked apologetic. "We've been having some problems with the southern array in synchronizing it with the other ten. It'll take some time to work out. I'm sorry, Lucas. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Yeah sure," Lucas uttered, becoming more disgruntled. _Why should you start now? You only had sixteen years to follow through. Dammit, I wish you would just..._

Samantha blinked for him and considered taking over his speech to tell Lawrence otherwise, but felt that it would only make the situation worse. She couldn't believe how his father would choose his work over his only son, and was suddenly grateful for the time her father would take from his digs in Egypt to spend with her and her mother during the holidays. Lucas had rarely had that.

Something warm swept through Lucas' system and he flinched at the comfort.

"I'll call you soon, son. Good luck on the assignment," Lawrence said.

"Thanks," Lucas repeated, and shut off the vidcom, leaning back in his chair.

_Lucas_...

"Don't even start, Sam." He got up and headed into the kitchen to rummage through the fridge for any pre-placed food.

_He's your father_, she argued, standing behind him.

Lucas grabbed a Pepsi. "And I'm his son. What's your point?" He turned to her. "He's been doing this for years. I didn't expect him to change then, and I don't expect him to change now. It's just the way he is."

_Don't lie to me, Lucas._

"Dammit, Samantha, leave it alone!" he spun on her, then went back to food hunting.

Samantha felt the clear hurt and bit her lip, causing him to bite his. _How many times has he done this to you?_

When all she got was a grunt in response, she made him bite his lip again. _It's clear how much this hurts you, and if you want to hide it from the rest of the world, then be my guest. Just don't lie to me about it when you know I can sense it._

He grabbed an orange out of the bottom drawer and closed the fridge, then started pealing it. "I don't pry into your personal business."

_Oh really,_ she crossed her arms and glanced up at him. _So what about wondering what this meant?_ She took control of his right hand and swiped his first two fingers quickly against his temple.

_Lyn did it after I walked out of lab 2 retrieving one of your books yesterday and you giggled,_ he thought. He regained control and resumed pealing the fruit.

_I did not giggle,_ she objected.

"Oh, then I was imagining it? That sign meant 'clueless' and was directed at me."

_No, it was not._

"Don't lie to me, Sam."

She folded her arms. _Hm. Touché._

He took a victory bite of the orange. "I rest my case."

_It was an inside joke between us and wasn't any of your business._

"And poking around my head to tell me how screwed up my family is isn't any of yours," he shot, popping another slice of orange into his mouth.

Samantha's image sat down as he felt her settle back with a pang of guilt. _Sorry for caring._

He paused. Sifting through her emotions right now was like trying to unwind the world's biggest ball of string. As soon as the thought left her, he saw that recent memory of the phone call play across his vision along with a sense of abandonment, but it wasn't the same. His father's face wasn't the one looking back at him, it was someone else he didn't recognize but knew Samantha did. He stopped in mid chew for a second, then threw away the peal, turning around and facing her image. "What was that?"

He felt her recoil, like she hadn't meant to show him that. She gave no immediate answer.

"Why do I get the feeling there's more here than you're willing to admit?"

She was glad that he could focus on her reflection because it felt more real that talking to herself. She hesitated. It was bad enough to be witness to that vid call, but even worse to be surrounded by Lucas's emotions by it. That was a part of her life she hadn't wanted to reveal. How could she tell him about the boarding schools, the endless nights in a nearly empty house waiting for her father's car to pull up, the trips to Europe to be shone off as her father's prize--his genius daughter who would someday resurrect remnants of the past in centuries old Egyptian dust and follow in his great footsteps? How could she share the broken promises? Turns out she didn't have to tell him.

Lucas sat down in the small round backed plush chair across from her image and pealed away a slice of orange, his eyes drifting. "Closer than either of your realize..." he mused.

_What?_

He took a breath and looked at her, eating the slice of orange. "What Dr. Levin said back when all this began. Why you didn't move on."

_Oh._

Both were silent for a moment, then Lucas finished off the orange and wiped his hands on his pants. "So, what was it?"

She averted her gaze to the window. His eyes flicked briefly to the outside before returning.

_It's--it's nothing you should worry about._

He simply stared at her, one eyebrow slightly arched. Within, a ripple of apprehension washed through him almost like adrenaline. He felt her sigh.

_I suppose it's fair_, she resigned. _About six months ago, Malcolm started becoming suspicious of my behavior. I was becoming tired and lashing out at people over little things. It--_

"Happens when you get tired, I know," he finished lightly.

She made him smile slightly, but was only held a second. _He found out I had been using Naythral for the physical research._

Lucas sucked in air through is teeth, disbelief evident on his features. "Naythral?"

_It was only suppose to be an aid--something that would allow me to better research the dolphin pod in the water so I could accumulate more complete data. I never meant it to go any further_, she defended.

"Sam, that stuff is dangerous."

_I know, I know._ Her image began pacing the room. _This guy, Kyle, had some in the lab that he'd been tinkering with. He offered to let me use some on the excursions and I agreed thinking it wouldn't do that much damage._

Lucas stood, as he felt her agitation and the need to suddenly move. "Sam, you don't know what that stuff could have done to you. It's too unstable--the medical community won't even use it."

_It's bioengineered to maintain an increased amount of oxygen in the blood stream. I thought it would make a difference in my work, get me closer to...the facts._ she paused, not wanting to press that further. To actually voice her want to be closer to dolphins would make it more real than she wanted to know.

Lucas looked up, suddenly understanding. "That's why you can stay underwater as long as you can. That stuff actually altered your blood."

She nodded. _I knew the consequences then and I know them now, but it took Malcolm calling my folks to really end it for me._

At once he realized the vid call with the strangers face was her father's.

_Yes, he called my dad_, she answered his unspoken question. _And my dad said he didn't want to see me until I'd worked out my punishment with Malcolm and then he would lance into me. I bet it wounded his pride to have his prize child actually make a human mistake._

Lucas could understand that and easily put the pieces together of the abandonment sense. "How long?"

Her humiliation was evident, so much so that there was no way in hell he could have ignored it. _Two months._

Lucas ran his fingers stiffly through his hair and exhaled.

_He abandoned me during the one time I actually needed a father_. she whispered, sensing a clenching then understanding feeling from Lucas. She halted at the window as if her image could see through the glass.

Lucas knew how she felt then and recalled her words earlier to him in that first dream they shared. They ran through his mind like an audio recording. '_I can see exactly what you see, but I don't understand how you could miss that_.'

She looked back at him, locking him in her gaze. _Now you understand._ Her voice was low and more serious than he had heard in days. For a second, no words were exchanged, but each knew exactly why captain Nathan Hale Bridger had begun to be more to them than just the man who commanded the biggest boat in the water.

He leaned back and worried his face with his hands. There were more emotions swirling inside him than he wanted to deal with, and the frightening part was that some of them mirrored his own.

His eyes drifted to Samantha's guitar case propped against the desk and stared at it, suddenly struck with the want to pick it up. Samantha's image looked back at him when he got up, walked over to it, lifted it from its place, and sat back down again. His long fingers clicked the latches up so the lid fell open. Inside was a beautifully crafted two-tone blue acoustic Johnson guitar. Even though it looked well worn, it was also well cared for.

Samantha extended her awareness into his hands and lifted the instrument from its protective case. She set it in his lap, but all Lucas could do was shake his head.

"No, I can't play this. I can't even play the kazoo."

_Come on, everyone can play the kazoo._

"No, everyone can't. I'm not a musician, Sam."

_Well, I am,_ Samantha said soft with reassurance.

He was still slightly skeptical. "I don't think this is such a..."

_Relax, Luke. Trust me._

"All right," he resigned. He shifted the guitar so his left hand grazed the neck and his right lay over the body. "But, don't call me Luke," he said with no bitterness.

Samantha grinned slightly and responded by making a D cord ring clearly through the room. His fingers were stiff at first, having never seriously held a guitar --not counting the air guitar rifts he was use to pantomiming--but because he was a demon typist, training the muscles to her thoughts was easier than she'd expected. She ran his thumb down the six nylon strings to make sure it stayed in tune.

Lucas watched, feeling the pressure of the strings beneath the pads of his fingers, but having no will to control his arms. It was a strange new experience for him to be creating music on a real instrument rather than with a computer program, and it actually felt all right.

One cord led to three more, and in short time, Samantha was in full artistic swing. Lucas' long fingers plucked the strings like a professional, gliding from clear note to cord to doodle. He let Samantha guide his fingers, and surprisingly, he could see the music in his head, hear it and feel it as she played. It was absolutely amazing.

The music slid into a semi-complicated intro, beautiful and haunting, like winds dancing across desert sands. Its simple melody entranced and flowed along two octaves that intertwined to create a melody written on a winding path of its own. Each note carried more meaning than a thousand words. He let his eyes drift closed, immersing himself in this artistic freedom that came from the soul of another human being.

He couldn't believe he was actually playing the guitar. Even though Samantha controlled his hands, he was sure the muscle memory would stick with him after she left. It spoke volumes to him. He never thought he could feel so free from simply creating music. It was something he always took for granted, but never fully understood simply because his mind was mathematical. The arts were too chaotic to factor into numbers, to sort out and categorize like applications in neat little folders to be filed later. Artists used their souls, and souls couldn't be categorized.

This was another dimension of Samantha Haley Kinkade he had never known. As his fingers plucked the strings, he realized that what she heard wasn't just sound waves or notes, or theory, it was a part of herself--real music.

Samantha struck a final cord and let it linger in the air so it slowly dissipated into the low late winter sounds. For a moment, neither spoke.

Lucas lowered the guitar to his lap and let the feeling buzz through him. "Wow," he breathed. "You wrote that?"

The image he saw across from him nodded. _About two years ago. I call it 'Prayer of a Wanderer.'_

"It's beautiful."

_Thank you. I finished it after my grandmother died from cancer a couple days before my graduation from Berkeley_.

"Uhm, I'm sorry."

_It's ok. She missed my grandfather too much, I guess, and after he died when I was a kid, she couldn't hold on anymore. They say that happens when two people are that much in love._

It was a thought that had hardly crossed Lucas' mind. His grandmother had never given him cause to hate her, though she had never made a special trip out of her way to see him or randomly bake cookies. The Wolenczak women were not known for their skill in the kitchen. Still, he wondered what having that kind of grandmother would be like--an Auntie Em sort of thing? He also wondered if his grandmother had passed away still loving her husband the way Samantha's had.

"I'm going," Lucas finally said after a pregnant pause. He placed the guitar back in its case and closed it. "We have a few minutes before they want us there anyway, so I'm gonna take a look around." _Come if you want,_ he added humorously to lighten the thickened atmosphere.

The conversation ended, he shoved his dorm keys in his pocket, and left the room. As much as Spyers gave him the creeps, it was about time they got this separation experiment underway.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Evening fell gracefully along the Florida night sky and basked the Parapsychology center in the dwindling humidity of a near tropical late January night. The comfort level was perfect for anyone in any part of the world for about an hour, but after that, a sweater was required to maintain it. All throughout the campus, various activities were dying down save for a handful of night classes. Students wandered back to their dorms, some hanging around levitating objects, some involved in telepathic conversations, and an art class was busy in tying an intricate Celtic knot out of a long white rope through telekinesis. It had all the academic appeal of a high class university, yet with a comforting layer of nature that eased the eye into the nuances of the campus.

A serene, two tiered fountain flowed in the center of a manicured garden laid out in front of the main building.

Nathan Bridger and Kristin Westphalen took a seat in front of the polished cherry wood desk in the dean's office. The decor of the spacious room gave a sense of peaceful stillness from the many plants that had been placed around the floor, on pedestals, and hanging from the ceiling. Waning light filtered in rays along the soft carpet from a wide multi-pained window that offered an unhindered view of the campus center.

The solid oak door opened smoothly, revealing a tall African woman in a powder blue dress and matching headband that wrapped around her thick curly hair. Her features were smoothly etched into a warm face that emitted the same peaceful sense as the room.

"Thank you for coming," she smiled as she shook Nathan's hand and sat down behind the desk, clasping her hands on the neat surface. Even those with no psychic abilities would read easily that Laura Fletcher was a woman who commanded respect, though in a welcoming manner.

"It's our pleasure, Mrs. Fletcher," Bridger returned the warm smile.

"Please, call me Laura."

Nathan smiled and nodded. His small psi ability registered her instantly, and--although he wasn't aware of the source--he relaxed. He'd learned early on in life to trust his gut feelings for they had hardly ever steered him wrong in the past.

Laura slipped easily into conversation, keeping both her guests in eye contact. "I have discussed this matter with the department heads and they believe that silence would be the best approach due to the complex nature of young Mr. Wolenczak's--and Ms. Kinkade's--situation. Only a few select individuals would even know of his real reason for being here. As far as everyone else is concerned, he's testing and updating our security systems. "

"Good move," Bridger agreed.

"Indeed. Though, I must say, to be presented with something as outstandingly rare as this is truly an incredible experience."

"He's been very adamant about his privacy lately," Westphalen said, crossing her legs. "I don't think Lucas would have it any other way."

"Considering someone else is sharing his body with him at all times, I don't blame him." Laura leaned back in the short moment of silent agreement from the other two. "With this in mind, we've chosen Professor Terrence Maybrid's department as the center of study. He has most of the equipment we'd need for a case such as this, as well as an extensive knowledge of the area."

Bridger's eyebrow rose curiously. "And what equipment is that?"

"Professor Maybrid heads the department of Spectral Phenomena and Analysis. He's our foremost teacher on spirit sightings and ghosts, poltergeists--dealing with the individual consciousness. And he is also an accomplished mediary." She smiled when Bridger realized she'd answer his unspoken question about Maybrid's personal attachment. "He's very fascinated by this."

"It falls in with his line of work," he agreed, "but Samantha's not dead."

"No," Kristen added, "her body is still undergoing repairs, and with the help of your doctors, her chances for survival may well improve."

"We're hoping," Laura nodded. "Returning her is only one of the steps we'll have to take in a line of who knows how many. Being in someone else's body for so long may have repercussions we're unaware of and we must deal with them accordingly." She paused, letting it sink in. "This has never been done before. We're not sure what to even expect, but first we have to focus on separating them before they bind to each other completely. How to undo that 'weave of souls'--as you can say--will be difficult, but I do not believe impossible," she assured them.

Nathan hadn't vocally admitted how complicated it might be to return them both to normal, but Laura's statement had brought it into harsh clarity. Before, he'd somehow convinced himself that once Samantha's body was healthy, all Lucas would have to do is push her soul back to it and she would wake up, perfectly normal. To keep hope in this situation, he'd repressed the doubt that it wouldn't work, the risk was too great, or both would be harmed irreparably. He forced back the foresight of an unwanted outcome, though his anxiety seeped into his voice. "When will you begin?"

"This evening."

"So Soon?" Westphalen voiced concern.

"The sooner the better." Laura kept her cool, but didn't lie to them. She could feel their concern swirling like a whirlpool, and the captain's emotions washed around her like ripples in a pond. "Professor Maybrid has already devised a working theory and is eager to try it. In fact, Lucas should be by very soon."

As if on queue, a quick knock came at the door. Both Bridger and Westphalen turned to see who it was, but Laura held her state of grace. "Come in, Lucas."

Lucas stepped in to find all three pairs of eyes locked on him.

_Oh look. We've spooked the natives_

_How did she know?_ He cleared his throat and opened his mouth, but she got there first.

"Really, Lucas," she smiled like a mother would to a child. "I thought you'd know better than to wonder such things when surrounded by hundreds of psychics."

"Believe me, I haven't forgotten that," Lucas answered with unease. Though Laura looked warm and welcoming, he instantly filled his mind with confusing thoughts in case she had the want to read it. He'd learned quickly about the ways of blocking a Spyer's mind scan.

Samantha, on the other hand, did not want to listen to his mental voice repeating the lyrics of "Henry the 8th" obnoxiously over and over. _You're a paranoid freak, Wolenczak. Shut up!_

Laura's smile faded into a look of awed excitement. "Incredible. I can sense it from here." She stood and approached the boy, not reading his thoughts, but a conflict unseen to the naked eye. "Oron told me he felt something different with you when he met you at the launch, but now that I see for myself--" she stopped, aware her ramblings were making him uneasy. "Forgive me," she apologized with a slight nod. "Sometimes you just can't help what you see."

Lucas wondered just what kind of energy vibes he was emitting to these psychics now, and he looked as nervous as he felt.

Samantha played with the ring around his neck in her habit of showing that emotion. Lucas was aware of her motion, but left it alone.

Bridger stood and spoke up first. "Lucas, this is Laura Fletcher, Dean of the institution." He hoped the introduction would eliminate any awkward responses.

Lucas extended his hand, which Laura took. "Uhm, Lucas. And Samantha," he added with some hesitation. Referring to himself as another person made him feel like he'd left his sanity back onboard the _SeaQuest_.

"Amazing how you've already accepted her," Laura nodded, clearly interested.

Lucas' words scrambled themselves as he tried to sort them and explain himself. "Accepted? No, see--no I was--see--just introducing--"

"To live with her as you have been, is acceptance," Laura cut him off, then politely gestured to the door. "Well, are you ready to begin?"

That battle lost, Lucas stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded, exhaling. "Uhm, Yeah. Yeah, I'm ready."

"Good. Follow me," Laura said to all of them, and lead them from the office.

tbc


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve**

The double doors to the Lotus building swung easily open, attracting the attention of a thirty year-old man from behind a horrendously messy desk. Tall professor Maybrid grinned broadly showing a row of neat white teeth, sparking green eyes, and a mop of shaggy brown hair held flat by a pair of plastic protective goggles atop his head.

"Ah, come in, come in, please. It's good to see you're finally here. I've been expecting you." He shoved a pile of papers and plastic models out of his way and removed the goggles. A plume of hair splayed out from where the goggles had been and looked as if no amount of gel could tame them.

Lucas knew exactly how he felt as he brushed stubborn stray bangs from his own eyes.

The three of them followed Laura inside the lecture hall, meeting Maybrid half way to the stage. "Laura, nice to see you as always," he smiled enthusiastically, then shook Bridger's hand and kissed Westphalen's. "Professor Terrence Maybrid, at your service." That enthusiasm grew when he laid eyes on Lucas. "And you, you my boy have been nothing but an enigma since I reviewed Dr. Levin's report. Fascinating discovery in the development of the human consciousness: the ability to harbor a second soul. Indeed a puzzling puzzlement."

_This guy's a wack job_. Lucas wondered where in the merry old land of Oz this guy came from, but couldn't object to his curiosity.

"Our doctor thought the same way, and we were hoping your idea could solve this 'puzzling puzzlement,'" Bridger said.

"Ah yes!" the professor exclaimed, tearing his eyes away from Lucas as if he just remembered why they were here in the first place. He spoke as he hurried back down to the stage, his tone more explicating.

"As you know, the human brain can only contain so much information running along the different pathways and such--frequencies, you know. Although the capacity is vast, the acquirement of another form of that information would readily overload the synapses, causing neural difficulties if not dealt with properly. I surmise headaches, some disorientation, maybe hallucinations while the opposing information is being stored in cellular memory."

Lucas glanced to Samantha's 'hallucination' and grinned. _How long is he going to keep rambling like this?_

Maybrid took no notice, but fussed with the papers on the desk, organizing them into uneven piles and searching through them. "Immediately I knew it was a logistics problem between conflicting brainwaves and I have devised a method to divide and correct such inconsistencies developed by the two. Theoretically, of course." A few papers fluttered to the floor.

Lucas stepped forward up to the desk. "Then it won't surprise you that I see Samantha?"

"Not in the least," Maybrid answered casually.

"Or that I hear her?"

"Nope."

"What about the flying monkeys?"

That roused an animated curious expression from the good doctor.

_Gotchya_. Lucas grinned, listening to Samantha laugh and withholding his own want to do so.

"So what have you invented?" Nathan intervened, breaking the awkward silence.

Maybrid stopped, looking seriously at the young man. "I call it a Psyonic Induced Neuro Pathway Inhibitor. Or more simply, a Frequency Amplifier. Six of one, half dozen of the other--doesn't matter," he shrugged and went back to sifting through pages.

Lucas looked at the captain and Kristin, wanting to explain this, but decided better to leave it alone and let them figure it out.

Westphalen was the first to respond. "What sort of method are you using?"

"Aha! Here it is!" Maybrid grabbed a piece of paper and held it into the air. "Follow me and you'll see," he said happily and walked through a door at the end of stage left that said "Laboratory 1"

Laura turned to the two scientists. "I'll leave you with Maybrid. Although he seems a bit eccentric, he knows what he's doing. Good luck." Her eyes rested on each of them for a second, then she left them to follow the mediary.

Lucas was the last to enter Lab 1, dreading that this kook was going to scramble his brains in some way.

"Sit," Maybrid ordered as he activated the equipment.

He lowered himself into a chair placed next to the table, warily eyeing the wrist bonds on each arm rest. "Are these necessary?"

"Merely a precaution. Spirits can be unpredictable –as I've regretfully discovered while dealing with matters of possession--but I doubt we'll have to use them seeing as the girl sharing your life isn't demonic."

"Have you ever done this before?"

Maybrid froze for a half second. "This procedure itself? Technically...no, but I have chuckled in the face of catastrophe."

_Who talks like that anymore?_ He reminded Lucas of a badly scripted DC comic hero. It took a surprisingly immense amount of willpower to refrain from muttering that sarcastic comment. What was he getting himself into?

_I don't know, but suddenly I wish I was somewhere else._

_You and me both_, Lucas thought.

Besides the three of them, Maybrid wasn't alone in Lab 1. Four other psychics were already in the room engaged in other activities, and discussing details unheard with Maybrid. Lucas glanced at each psychic as they readied the equipment, and bit his lip while a woman placed small electrodes on his head. His eyes shifted to the only two people he knew, Kristin and Nathan. "Since when did the vote go out that I'd be the guinea pig for this specific experiment?"

The woman placing the electrodes spoke up. "Since you're the only one on campus with a legitimate alter-ego we can test this on."

"Gee, if this is all it took to get recognition, I'd have done it years ago," Lucas laced heavily into sarcasm.

"And might I ask who you are?" Nathan asked her.

The dark haired psychic turned to Bridger, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear. "I'm Doctor Wendy Smith. Laura called me in to assist Professor Maybrid, and I couldn't find a way to say no. Simply put, they needed a spoon-bender who an education in anatomy to keep an eye on things. And you are?"

"Captain Nathan Bridger." He noticed quickly how confidently she handled herself, and how much that haircut accentuated her slim figure. He caught 'the look' from Westphalen out of the corner of his eye. "And this is Dr. Kristin Westphalen."

Wendy smiled and shook her hand. "It's an honor to meet you, Dr. I've read some of your work. It was very impressive."

"Thank you," Kristin returned the camaraderie. "Aren't you the one who wrote that article about a psychic's view of the human heart?"

"Yes," Wendy smiled, surprised someone like Westphalen had even glanced at it. "It was my end-of-the-year thesis. I'm glad you liked it. That means a lot."

Kristin put a hand on her hip. "I make it a point to keep up with all the new medical information. Even if it is from a psychic."

"Ahem," Lucas cleared his throat and had all of them looking at him again. "Time to be moving on?"

"Oh, right." Kristin said. The two women stopped their conversation, Wendy going back to work.

Maybrid addressed a psychic swiftly. "Is this being recorded?"

"Yes, professor. Since we got here," the young man answered.

"Splendid, Jarod, splendid," Maybrid grinned.

Kristin placed a hand on Lucas' arm. "Are you ready?"

Samantha made Lucas exhale as she glanced to them, and spoke for him. "Let's just get this over with."

Dr. Smith placed one last electrode on Lucas' forehead as Maybrid flipped a few switches and the equipment hummed to life. "You'll feel a slight sting and a tingly sensation, but don't worry, it'll pass," she said, then backed away to watch the health monitors.

Everyone not actively involved looked on in expectancy.

"Cross your fingers." Maybrid flipped one more switch and the complete collection of technology came to life.

Lucas felt a sting in his temples like he'd been told, and flinched, then flexed his fingers when his skin began to crawl from the tingling sensation. He saw the professor enter a series of commands, press the enter key, and watched as one more light winked on.

Nothing happened.

Samantha took control of Lucas voice briefly to ask what was wrong when she felt a stab of pain to her forehead and shuddered.

Lucas jerked violently forward from the pain, his blue eyes wide, and gasped as he saw his vision blur and draw quickly away.

Points of fire hot electricity lanced at him from every side, whipping around him like angry snakes poised to attack. They were around his arms and legs in a heartbeat, and in another, yanked him violently to the rear of his own mind. He fought briefly at the force tearing him away from any known sense of control, any trace of command before invisible walls appeared around him, completely entrapping him. He'd barely had time to register anything had happened when he screamed at what felt like someone hurling him up against a brick wall, and he dropped into unconsciousness.

Because of Samantha's brief take-over of his speech, she flew forward, her head throbbed as something ripped her away from Lucas--farther away than she had ever been before. Everything opened up to her in a barrage of information, all sense of sight, taste, sound, touch, and even the sensation of true control became close enough to grasp and hold onto tightly.

Lucas' head dropped wearily to his chest.

Wendy watched the EEG machine spike, and the wave that represented Lucas shrank to one indicative of sleep--a delta wave dominance--and Samantha's grew to completely override his--an Alpha wave. By her readings, Samantha Kinkade was now in complete control of Lucas' body, and Lucas had been put into a state of sleep.

"Lucas?" Bridger prodded as he saw the boy's head come slowly back up like he'd been awakened from a week long nap. "Lucas."

Samantha blinked, shock coursing through her. "Whoa." She felt normal, like herself, as if the skin she was in was meant to be her own. Softly in the back of her mind, the familiar whisper of Lucas' consciousness played in his constant presence, and she could feel him, but that was all.

"Unbelievable." She studied Lucas hands, touched his--her skin, feeling every nuance and tactile sensation belonging to it, and took a testing deep breath. The whisper that was Lucas offered no resistance or hindrance at all.

"It worked," she uttered through his voice.

Kristin read the EEG and looked back to Lucas. "Samantha?"

Samantha looked up with Lucas' eyes, swiping hair out of his face. "Yeah."

Bridger licked his lips. "Where's Lucas?"

Samantha searched, closing her eyes, and to her astonishment, found a small mental image of Lucas lying out cold in the same small room she herself had imagined when Lucas was in the foreground. "He's still alive, just--I think you seriously knocked him out. Is he going to be ok?"

"He's dormant for now," Wendy explained. "This should last for about eight hours, and in that time, we'll want to monitor you continuously for any changes or anomalous readings." She removed the electrodes and placed a small device to Lucas' right temple. "Keep this on. It'll keep me informed of your status."

Samantha stood, lightly touching the transmitter, then stretched and just moved for the sake of moving--becoming use to total control again. Even when they did this the last time at the moon pool on the _SeaQuest_, it was never to this extent. "So I'm free. No interruption? Nothing? Just me for eight hours?" elation formed her words.

Bridger stood. "Yes, but remember where you are, Sam. This is just to separate you first."

Samantha laughed. "This is incredible." She smiled and turned to Maybrid, embracing him enthusiastically. "Thank you."

"Oh, it was my pleasure. At least we know you're not dead," Maybrid forced an uncomfortable grin and pushed Lucas away.

Samantha blinked and ran her fingers through Lucas' hair. "But you're sure he'll be ok like this? I mean, he won't be hurt will he?"

Maybrid shook his head, tousling bits of brown bangs in his own eyes. "No, I shouldn't think so. In fact I'm quite sure he won't be damaged in this sleep state at all."

That gave her some relief. Samantha turned to the captain, the smile still on Lucas' face and feeling very antsy. "Captain, I wanna go do something. Now. Go anywhere. I don't care where."

Bridger looked to Kristin, who nodded, but he shook his head. "I don't think you should leave."

"Oh come on, Nathan, what will it hurt? He--she's got eight hours before she has to be back here," Kristin said as convincingly as she could.

Maybrid nodded in agreement. "As long as the transmitter is still in place, I don't see the harm in it. Lucas' awareness is suppressed deep enough that the others won't even know he's in there."

Samantha bit Lucas' lip. "It's the first time in a week I've had any sort of freedom like this, and I only have eight hours of it. I promise I won't go anywhere or do anything where there aren't any psychics. Please?"

Bridger sighed and gave in. He'd lost this round, but what harm would it do? After all, didn't Samantha deserve this? And according the EEG, Lucas was asleep, so there was no reason to keep her here. "All right."

"Yes!" Samantha cheered, punching a fist in the air. "Intense!" Lucas' voice sounded lower, but she'd become use to it by now. "Ok, how about food? I'm starving. What about that Chinese place in the mall? Or that Mexican place down the street? Hang on, I'll go back and get my wallet." With more exuberance than she'd felt in days, she ran out of Lab 1 and back to the Aspen dorm building.

No one had seen Lucas act that happy since this whole folly began, and both Kristin and Nathan thought it was about damn time.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucas existed as an imaginary figment--a memory inside an illusion that seemed entirely real to him, or as real as dreams get. He was a remembrance of his physical self, but one with a created space of life kept in the far corner of the mind.

Slowly he crept back to consciousness and pushed himself off the floor of the illusion. He was in a small blue hued room--the same from Samantha's imaginings--but he was trapped in it. Flashes of the outside played across his vision like cut film from a slow old fashioned movie. He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck and took in the surroundings, more than confused.

_Whoa, what happened? Ah, man, my head is killing me._ He looked up during one flash of sight and saw the captain and Westphalen walking with him and another psychic past a tall oak tree in the campus center, then it switched to the dream room again.

He pressed on the walls but they wouldn't budge. He pushed harder, but no door appeared, no window, nothing. All he saw were courses of electricity that kept him inside, and frequent flashes of external sight to the outside world. He wanted to blink, but the thought wouldn't obey him. He tried to move his arm, yet the action eluded him. No matter what he did, his body wouldn't listen. It was ignoring him completely.

_Captain,_ he called out to no avail. _Captain, can you hear me?_ No one answered him, but he did hear conversation, as he was still tapped into all of his senses.

"This should last long enough to discover if the procedure will succeed when put to full use," Westphalen said.

"And the transmitter?" Nathan asked.

"Working normally. It'll keep him unconscious for the complete eight hours."

_What? Uhm, no it didn't, guys_., Lucas tried asking. _This just knocked me out, it--_

"With luck I'll have my crewmen back soon, and in one piece. Hey, Sam, how does seafood sound?" Nathan interrupted him without knowing.

_Sam? Wait, she's not--_ Lucas felt his own voice override his thought. "Sounds great. Anything right now. Lucas never ate when he was at the computer. Liked to drive me nuts."

If it had come down any harder, it would have slammed him into the floor. Samantha was in absolute control, and he had been completely repressed like a bad memory. He pressed his hands against the impenetrable walls again. _Captain, Kristin, listen to me. I'm not asleep, I'm here. I'm awake._

"We'll leave you with Jarod while we head back to the _SeaQuest_ for a bit, then meet you after dinner, all right?" Kristin patted Lucas' shoulder.

She nodded. "Ok, fine."

_I don't believe this,_ he sighed irritably. _Samantha, get that psychic dude to tell them I'm still here_. He watched them walk to a car through a flash of sight that moved to the psychic. _Oh, good; a mind reader. Hey, Jarod, tell the others that--_

"There's this place the guys and I meet after school on Fridays. You're welcome to come and share some laughs. It'd be a blast and get your mind off everything," Jarod offered.

_First tell him I'm still awake--_ Lucas stepped back as Samantha responded.

"I dunno," Samantha pondered this, biting his lip and wondering if she'd get caught.

"Come on," Jarod prodded.

"mm, all right. I just want to take a walk for a few minutes."

Jarod grinned. "No problem. Meet me in the Aspen common room when you get back."

"Yeah, sure," she swept Lucas' bangs back, smiled, and watched Jarod walk away, admiring the way his cloths crinkled when he walked.

Lucas felt a grin crease his face, and cursed when he followed her gaze. Samantha, _stop it_. She was still staring at him.

This was getting ridiculous. She'd heard nothing he'd said, plus she was making eyes at Jarod. With _his_ eyes no less. It didn't rub well with him at all. _Please don't, Sam._ He begged. She ignored him. _I can't even move. Dammit, Samantha, why are you ignoring me?_ He paused. _Or can you not hear me either..._ It dawned on him almost too fast, and now his insistence spiked. _I'm right here! Jarod, you're suppose to be a mind reader, open your ears!_

"See ya later," Samantha said to Jarod, and started off across campus with a slight spring in her step.

Lucas was getting very frustrated. _Why can't anyone hear me?_ He pounded on the wall again, breaking the flow of the electricity. _Captain Bridger! Samantha! Kristin! Jarod! Somebody--_anybodyBy now, no one else was around except the occasional wandering psychic, but they didn't give the slightest hint that someone else was trying to scream at them.

Every emotion connected with the fear than comes with complete helplessness flowed through him, around him, yet seemed enclosed inside the same walls that held him prisoner. Those emotions worked their way into his mental voice and he leaned against the wall, folding his arms and fighting the want to rip his hair out--even though he couldn't. He was truly, completely trapped.

_Dammit_. He sighed. _Guess this brings new meaning to the whole "Access Denied" concept._

tbc


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Thirteen**

"I'm worried, Nathan," Kristin set down a detailed report from Dr. Smith she was glancing over in Lucas' dorm room.

"About what?"

"This. All of this--with the kids. I don't know what to do or how to react."

Nathan worried his jaw and listened.

"What kind of repercussions will there be after separating them for this long? Will they be serious? How will they deal with them? I just don't..." Kristin sighed, too concerned, and massaged the bridge of her nose.

Nathan leaned over and placed his hands on her shoulders. "They're tough kids. I worry about them, too, but all we can do is be there for them."

"But what if something goes wrong? What if somehow...they're changed, or the procedure doesn't work?" she closed her eyes hoping Nathan wouldn't see the immense worry she felt. "I can't help but worry, Nathan. They're a part of the _SeaQuest_ family, and I'd never let anything happen to my family..."

"They'll be all right," Nathan reassured her, understanding how she felt about the crew being family. He looked into her green eyes, seeing the pain and knowing it himself, then gently took her hand. "Just have faith."

"Faith," she swiped amusingly at her red hair. "That was never in the scientific rulebook."

"Well, we're not exactly following the rules here, are we?"

Kristin's hand gripped his for a moment before she let go and picked up the papers. "No, I suppose we're not."

Nathan patted her hand and went back to studying his stack of reports.

It had been nearly 6 hours since they'd come back from dinner and Samantha had taken a walk with one of the psychic's involved in this case. Ever since, they had been waiting here for Lucas' return. It still didn't help speed up the clock, or the lazy passing hours.

There was a click in the door that caused both looked up quickly when Lucas himself burst through it laughing and swaying from side to side. Immediately, the low banter between he and Dr. Westphalen ceased.

Samantha looked up through his hazy blue eyes at the shifting world around her and smiled, attempting to pretend she could walk while the room was spinning. "Home, I'm honey!...er wait...Yeah." She spotted her house guests. "Hey, whadder you guys doin' here?"

"Where have you been?" Westphalen demanded, then saw the way Lucas was walking. "You're drunk."

Samantha laughed, thinking to hear her own voice but caught Lucas' low tenor instead. "Me? Drunk? Nah," lazily, she waved it away. "I'm not as think as you drunk I am. ...Er...wait...Yeah. I'm just tired."

Though the situation might have been funny at another place in another time with another person, Bridger didn't find much of that humor now, although he guessed later on it would be a joke around the poker table. "Lucas, do you want to be stuck like this forever?"

"No," Samantha regarded him as seriously as Lucas' swaggering body would allow. She braced herself on the counter when the spinning room switched directions. "I'm not Lucas. I'm Sam, and Jarrod was taking me with his buddies to the, um, the uh... 'Chameleon Desire.' It's a dance club--he said it'd be fun."

Westphalen shot Lucas the motherly stare she'd had more that enough practice with on her own daughter. "We've been waiting for you for six hours. Professor Maybrid had another technique he wanted to try and where were you? Getting pissed-up in some bar with a sixteen-year-old's body!"

Lucas' head cocked to the side. "I'm eighteen. I kin git blasted in this state."

"Lucas can't! He's never had a drink before, and he's never been drunk!"

Oh, this was fodder for later conversation. She couldn't contain the sudden laughter at Lucas not ever being drunk and balanced herself on the counter. She joked between snickers. "Would it matter if I said the dolphin made me do it?"

Neither of them answered, just glared.

"Look," Samantha tried to explain herself, briefly loosing her balance, "I just got sick and tired of being the good girl behind the curtain. If you were in my position, you'd do the same." She waved her hands through the air on the last word, then stopped, glancing off into space. Being drunk, her attention span had gone to nil. "Why does sick always go with tired anyway? It's like Ben and Jerry; you never have one without the other."

Nathan's face shifted to one of disappointment. "I'm surprised at you, Samantha. I thought you had more sense," he pointed at the unsteady teen. "When you're ready to take this seriously, you know where to find us," he stated sharply and left the room, waiting for Kristin on the other side of the door.

Samantha's cushion of alcohol was quickly deflating from the captain's words as she watched him, her sudden laughter diminishing with it. Wanting to explain herself again, she turned to Kristin as the doctor walked past her. Her demeanor mirrored Bridger's perfectly.

"Kristin, I--"

"I'll be back with something for the hangover," her words, though despondent, cut deep into Samantha, and the click of the door was like a hammer to her chest. Feeling sobriety pressing in on her along with guilt, she stumbled into the bedroom and flopped down on the bed, looking through strands of blond hair across Lucas' eyes, and groaned.

Lucas was going to be pissed.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a nice darkness to live in--peaceful, serene, silent. Although the light that chased it made him want to run with it.

Lucas struggled to wake up through a steadily rising sense of discomfort that grew from his stomach and spread through him like wild fire. His eyes fluttered sleepily as he began to make out blurred shapes and colors of the room around him. He groaned, cringing and wishing he'd remained asleep. Colors and shapes became clear as he sat up, wincing from a throbbing headache that didn't dissipate when he put his hand to his forehead. Whatever hit him must have punched him in the gut, then smashed his head through drywall.

One of the figures he made out was Samantha sitting with her knees up on the edge of the bed. _Lucas, let me explain,_ she began.

"Save it. I already know," he uttered painfully through gritted teeth. The drummer inside his skull refused to quit.

She looked quizzically at him. _But, how could you--_

"You took a joy ride, Sam!" he shot angrily. "What were you thinking?" He cringed in pain. Where was Tylenol when he needed it?

Samantha was surprised that he knew this at all, then lowered her head in shame before meeting his gaze again. _You were conscious of everything?_

He glared at her, venom lacing his words. "Unfortunately."

_I thought Dr. Smith said you wouldn't--_

"Yeah, well she was wrong," he clutched his stomach. "Right through three pieces of chocolate cream pie, a scampi dinner, half of someone else's, and five beers in a drinking game--wrong." Yelling hurt, so he opted for a low growl of disdain.

_Lucas, I'm sorry,_ she pleaded._ I didn't know you were awake, I swear._

He looked up at her with pain filled eyes, and though he knew her apology was sincere, he couldn't stop himself. "I want you out of my head and out of my life."

_That's just the beer talking_

"It shouldn't be talking at all!" he groaned and laid back down. "If I wanted to get hungover, I wanted to do it on my own terms. By my own actions," he spat, and rolled over onto his side, curling up into a ball.

Samantha's energy retreated out of controls way and he saw her turn her back on him, hugging her knees. _I really am sorry,_ her whispered voice echoed through his already pounding head. _It's not easy having to adapt to your male society._

"Yeah, I noticed when you tried to hit on Jarod," he muttered.

She blushed, but knew she was treading paper-thin ice. _Jarod is sensitive, and cute. Besides, he knew it was me._

"But no one else did. Now everyone thinks I'm a fruit loop." He tried to burry his face in the pillow in embarrassment. How could he face the outside world again? Maybe if he could just crawl inside the pillowcase...

_Julianna doesn't, and I know you're not._

"I don't wanna hear your opinion right now," he clutched at his painfully clenching stomach and focused on his breathing to ignore it and her.

She hadn't meant to hurt the only person who understood her. In no way was that her intention. The horrible sense of disappointment she now felt made her ill, but nothing she could say would make a difference. Her carelessness had damaged the only real friendship she had. She wanted to crawl into that pillow case and die.

For a few seconds--or hours; Lucas couldn't tell--all he could hear was the whir of the ceiling fan. And even that was too loud to be normal. He cringed when the door to his dorm opened followed by a British voice.

"Lucas?" Kristin entered the bedroom to find Lucas curled up at the head of the bed.

"Too loud," he muttered.

"Sorry," she whispered. "Here, I've brought a cure for the hangover." She handed Lucas a glass of water with two extra strength Advil, and set some saltine crackers and a warm soda on the small bedside table.

He sat up and took them gratefully. "Thanks." He downed the Advil and chugged the water in one gulp. "Now can you get her outa here?" he nodded in bitterness toward Samantha's image.

Westphalen shook her head slightly and sighed as she sat down on the bed, wishing she knew what he could see. "You know we're trying."

Lucas nodded and nibbled on a cracker. His stomach lurched in protest. "For this she should be sentenced to life in a bottle and corked."

Her eyes widened. "You were aware of what happened?"

"Yes. Why is that so hard for people to understand?" he held more bite than he intended. He exhaled, taking another sip of water. "She had a fun day as me. I saw and felt everything, but I couldn't do anything about it. It was like watching a bad interactive holovid. If my dad finds out about her, I might as well be ostracized from the entire Wolenczak family completely." His eyes found the doctor's briefly before lowering away from the painful light of the dimly lit room.

Kristen lost her voice for a moment. She believed that the procedure had put him into a dormant state, yet if it had, he wouldn't be able to describe anything. There was no reason he could want to lie.

"I can't believe you guys didn't know I was still conscious. This should have told you something," he pointed at the transmitter still attached to his temple. "I was screaming as loud as I could but not even Samantha heard me. Or if she did, she ignored me."

_I wasn't ignoring you_, Sam said honestly.

Lucas grimaced. "Her voice hurts."

"I know," Kristen soothed. She patted his knee. "Get some rest and we'll try again in the morning." She got up to go, but Lucas stopped her.

"No. No, not this. Check the harmonics. Change the amplification level."

"We'll tell Prof. Maybrid in the morning, Lucas." Though it was a command, her voice was bordering on caring mother. "If you need anything, we're staying down the hall."

Lucas nodded, not arguing about sleep and watched her go. He sat in silence, waiting for the headache to subside.

Sam sat as far back in his mind as she could get from his body's reaction to the alcohol. _I'm really sorry, Lucas_. She paused, mentally bit her lip and tried for a more upbeat approach to smooth things over. _Maybe if they adjust the Frequency harmonics to .50 instead of 1.0, the resonance won't be as bad. At least it worked with a sonic resonator back at Caicos._

"Maybe," he muttered through crunching a cracker.

Next time, they can...

"_No_, Sam. There won't _be_ another next time." he growled to the empty room.

_Of course there will. We have to._

"No, we don't... don't..." Lucas's stomach lurched. Within seconds he was up, across the dorm, and in the bathroom kneeling on the floor over the toilet bowl. His stomach heaved violently and he vomited three times before resting his head on his arm across the toilet seat. He breathed hard. Although he felt better, he still wanted to curl up and die.

Samantha breathed. There was no way she could avoid that. She wanted to cry. She had done this to him, and not only was she paying for it, but he had to reap her mistake. She mirrored his want to curl up and die.

"Shut up," Lucas whispered between breaths. He closed his eyes and sat on the cold off-white tile floor for a while, focusing on just breathing in and out.

Finally, he gathered enough strength to get to his feet, and flushed the toilet. He shuffled across the floor back to his room.

Samantha stayed with him in guiltful silence without another word for the rest of the night.

Lucas nibbled on the last of the crackers to have something on his stomach, then lay back down. It didn't take long for him to fall into a dreamless sleep.

---------------------------------------------------------------

_The next morning_...

Lucas awoke to the suns rays falling across the floor and sat up into full stretch, placing a hand to his head. He got up, stretched his legs, not even thinking about Samantha, but focusing more on the refreshed sensation of a cleared head, and yawned. Quickly, he dressed and started down to the cafeteria for breakfast when something else totally unrelated to his morning bliss stopped him cold in his tracks and he froze. Unfortunately, the slamming sensation woke up his passenger.

_Mm?_ Samantha's groggy morning voice crept awaked. She was fine until... _uh oh...oh no...no...,_ she moaned.

"Ah Christ, I gotta piss like a race horse," he grumbled and made a detour to the bathroom.

Lucas peeked in, making sure no one was in the room, and entered. Immediately, his eyes drifted to the pock-marked white tiled ceiling and Samantha began counting the individual dots along the edges.

He walked up to a urinal. "Do I have to stare at the ceiling every time I gotta use the jon?"

_Yes,_ she answered curtly to the descending sound of a zipper.

Lucas tried to avert his gaze ahead of him, but found he couldn't even blink because of Samantha's strong focused control over his eyes. _Come on, Sam. You're being paranoid._ He sighed, exasperated. _This is getting redi--_

_Think very hard on how you want to finish that sentence,_ she growled.

"--repetitive." This was a battle he was all to use to fighting, and was just as annoyed with fighting it. This is not my fault. You're the one who got drunk at a dance club.

_This isn't on for debate_.

_You know, you're making more out of this than it actually is. It's a perfectly normal, ordinary biological function for removing waste. You as a scientist should logically accept that._

_Logically I shouldn't be standing up, either. It's more difficult than you realize, Wolenczak._

"Deal with it."

_Paug mo'haune_. [Kiss my ass.

The conversation fell silent when someone else walked in and staked out the urinal to Lucas' left. The man nodded casually to Lucas. "Hey."

"Hey," Lucas responded, eyes still glued to the ceiling tiles.

"Counting tiles again?" the man joked. That's when Lucas recognized him. They'd met in the bathroom yesterday morning while Lucas was scouting the grounds before the meeting.

"What? Oh. Yup. Missed one." Lucas had found quickly that if you multiply the number of dimples on two sides of a tile, then multiply that number by the number of tiles, you get the number of dots in the ceiling. Easy enough.

The guy looked up, then back. "If the light fixtures suddenly move, let me know."

"Uh, Yeah. Sure." This guy wasn't much older than he was.

Lucas flushed and turned to the sink to wash his hands when he felt his eyes lower and his head turn toward the other guy. _SAMANTHA!_

Quickly, he ripped control from her, dried off his hands and left the room as fast as he possibly could. "What the hell were you doing?!"

_um_, she blushed, sounding slightly meek, _curiosity_?

He rolled his eyes.

I guess it is true what they say about hands.

Lucas started down the hall toward the cafeteria. "We set that rule on day One. You just couldn't help yourself, could you."

Sam tried hard not to laugh. _Um, I think he smiled at you_.

Deer have looked better in headlights at this point. Lucas took off down the hall like a shot. "Next time, you're going to deal with this. And I'm going to make you whether you like it or not."

tbc


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Fourteen**

_Later that day_...

Lotus Lab 1 was bustling with activity when Lucas entered. Nathan Bridger and Kristin Westphalen were already there as they said they would be, and conversing with Dr. Smith. Jarod gave him a knowing grin and a thumbs up, which Lucas returned, but had barely an idea why. The logical explanation pinned it to last night's club escapade, but it was all speculation from there. He blamed it on the cushion of alcohol that effectively smothered his memory.

He paused at the doorway, blue eyes resting on the chair--the instrument of public humiliation and pain, the highest seat of the human guinea pig--and swallowed nervously. Even though it was an inanimate object, Lucas could have sworn it took on the anthropomorphic characteristic of malicious intent.

The urge to turn and run was stronger now that he knew what would happen once he sat in that chair. It may not be exactly the same, but it was like getting bit by a dog. You don't go back to the same dog the next day and try to feed it again. That would just be stupid. He took a step back.

_What are you doing?_

_Getting out of here. I've had it_, he thought as he started walking back up the carpeted steps of the auditorium.

_But what about us?_

_We'll find a way out of this on our own_, he insisted.

"Lucas."

Lucas abruptly stopped at the sound of the captain's voice. He swallowed, not turning. "No, captain, I'm not going to let Profesure Snape do this to me again."

Light footfalls padded across the stage and the carpet. "Kristin told me about your conversation last night. For that, all I can say is I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well sorry doesn't erase what I went through," he snapped.

"No, it doesn't," Nathan resigned. He placed a hand on Lucas' shoulder and saw the boy visibly flinch. He could only wonder what it had been like for the young man to watch himself move, to hear his own voice speak words unborn from his thoughts, and watch the world through eyes he couldn't control.

"This isn't the only way," Lucas turned and faced the captain. _Don't make me go back there_.

"No, but it's the best way."

"Oh, and you found all the options? You said if it didn't work, we could try something else."

"And if it doesn't, we will. I gave you my word on that, but give this one more shot, that's it." He saw Lucas look away. "Come on, kiddo."

_Kiddo_. The captain only used that word when he wanted to show the youth more personal feelings in his own comfortable way. It had made Lucas feel less like an outsider when he did, and more like family.

_Why am I considering this? Why am I even sticking around? Get real, Lucas, he called you Kiddo. My dad didn't even call me Kiddo. So I'm staying because of a word. Nice. _ He noticed oddly that through all his mental ramblings, Samantha kept to herself. It was good to know he wasn't just talking to himself like a nutter.

Lucas's ice blue eyes drifted from the smooth glass wall of the aquarium side of the auditorium to the captain's face. If only he could believe this second chance would work, but that would require precognition--which he was more than lacking.

_I'm going to regret this..._ He bit his lip and scratched an itch from his nose. "All right."

"That's the Lucas I know," Bridger wrapped a reassuring arm around the teen's shoulders with a grin.

"What, the one who can't run when he wants to?" the youth quipped as they descended the steps.

Nathan quirked a grin. "Only if he's the same that refuses to quit."

That small compliment reassured him that the captain wouldn't leave him to the wolves.

The first wolf--Professor Maybrid-- motioned to Lucas to take a seat. Lucas paused slight before finally settling in the same chair as before, only now the restrains had been removed. It was a small relief.

"Well, Lucas, are you ready?" Dr. Maybrid asked. The captain's discussion group split and he and Westphalen joined them.

Lucas watched the captain with remembrance of the night before when Samantha had felt saddened at disappointing them. He stood. "No, not yet. I have a few suggestions first."

Maybrid seemed intrigued. "Please share."

He looked to Bridger and Westphalen, fully serious. "First, I wanna apologize for last night. I know it wasn't me, but Samantha feels awful and because of that, so do I. We let you down and I'm sorry."

It wasn't Lucas' fault, Bridger knew but he accepted the apology anyway. "It's all right. Apology accepted."

Samantha's relief flowed through to Lucas, making him exhale and run his hand through his hair. At least she had been forgiven, and to her that meant a great deal.

Lucas walked over to Maybrid's computer and typed in a simple sequence that called up the experiment's previous data. He pointed to the screen. "Professor, In your attempt to separate us by amplifying the brain wave of the person currently in control of...me, " he began awkwardly, "you hyper-elevated the frequency. Sure, Sam was completely in the foreground, but I was repressed to an extremely high extent, that--even though I was awake--her frequency was so 'loud' that not even she knew I was there. For me it was like a waking dream."

"So what are you suggesting?" Bridger stood behind him.

Lucas stuffed his hands in his pockets. "We alter the emission harmonics and lower the amplification level. It won't be as drastic, but it should get the same results."

"He has a point," Dr. Smith piped up. "In the moment the N.P.I. was activated, his pattern spiked severely before dropping into Delta. At least this way the possibility of neural damaged is reduced."

"But won't he still have some control?" Bridger asked.

"If it's me in the first place," Lucas pushed hair out of his eyes, "No. The level should be high enough to inhibit any control, but still allow awareness."

Maybrid nodded. Normally he wasn't the kind of man to just take advice first without questioning it, but this wasn't any normal situation. Plus the kid had proven to be exceptionally bright. So, as the good scientist and eager to see this thing through, he was open to anything. He slapped his palms together with an enthusiastic grin. "Let's get started shall we?"

"We'll give you a hand. Besides, there's something I want to try." Lucas removed the transmitter from his temple and laid it on the countertop.

Moments later, the transmitter modified and a brief fight with Maybrid about Lucas' logic ("Don't argue with me, it's my brain you're messing with."), Lucas sat down and watched the others at their tasks tapping his fingers against the arm rests. "Dibs."

"What?" Nathan cocked one eyebrow.

"I call Dibs. It's my turn to drive."

The captain grinned slightly.

Moments later, Professor Maybrid announced that he was ready. "All present and accounted for?"

"Har har," Lucas quipped, and gripped the arm rests. "Let's do it."

Maybrid replaced the transmitter.

Lucas felt the sting to his temples and inhaled as the tingle again swept over his body. This time, he made sure he was the one in control. The tingle ceased just as suddenly as it had come, but this time it was different. Nothing pounded him against a wall, but he could sense Samantha being forced further back out of the way. It seemed to take a millennium when only thirty seconds had passed. Lucas lifted his head and blinked, then took a deep breath. He heard the captain ask how he was.

"Much better." He flexed his fingers in a test to make sure it had worked. "I can still feel her, she's awake, but beyond control." He looked to Kristin, concern in his voice. "You sure she'll be ok? This won't damage her at all being in that state?"

"It shouldn't, no. You weren't."

He snorted. "Better work on a new definition."

Samantha didn't bother fighting the shield that had arisen between her and Lucas' motor functions. Though she wasn't happy about it, she felt he deserved as smooth a ride as possible since last night. He still wasn't feeling one hundred percent better.

Lucas glanced to Wendy as she placed the transmitter on his temple again.

"Once more for luck," she said. Her eyes flicked to a readout screen. "Vitals are normal, EM field holding, brain waves stable," softly, she placed a hand to the side of Lucas' head, "and no sign of any complications I can detect. Can you still hear her?"

_Can you hear me, Lucas? I like her hair. How does she get her bangs to do that?_

"Yes, I can," Lucas stood. "She likes your hair."

Wendy smiled. "Hm. Thank you."

Maybrid rubbed his hands together. "Success! Absolute success! We can now move onto step 3."

"Step 3?" Bridger and Lucas asked simultaneously.

Instantly, Lucas spun with a pointed finger at the captain. "Jinx! You owe me a soda," he grinned almost sheepishly.

Nathan harrumphed. That must be part of Samantha's personality that leaked into Lucas'.

Maybrid, on the other hand, seemed clueless, but just as gregarious. "The most important step yet."

"Making sure Samantha's body is healed enough to accept her." Westphalen turned to Bridger. "Professor Maybrid and Dr. Smith will need a day at least to set up."

"Do what you can." Nathan turned to the youth, who was combing his fingers absently through his hair. "Come on, Goldilocks."

Lucas brought his hand back, wondering where that little motion came from. "There was a knot," he defended, but all he could do was lace his fingers together and follow the captain out of the lab.

Jarrod used the monitor he was at to hide his frown as his brown eyes followed the blond youth and the captain to the door. He hadn't gathered as much information about the _SeaQuest_ as he would have liked last night, but if he played his cards right, eventually the right hand would present itself. This Wolenczak boy had to have some kind of higher evolved mental capacity other than his exceedingly high I.Q, or perhaps that was part of his ability. Jarrod had his reservations about the secrecy of this project, and knew there were people at Chatton and elsewhere who would place a high priority on harnessing the 'dual retention' gift for purposes other than research. Most notably, the one who funded his schooling with eager enthusiasm.

Maybrid glanced his way and the young psychic grinned, handing a pen to Dr. Westphalen--who had just opened her mouth to ask for one.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Later that day_...

"Jarod, I need to talk to you," Lucas ran to catch up to the young brunette psychic as he crossed the wide lawn to the three storied Aspen dorm building.

Jarod turned, hiding a smirk as Lucas stopped for a breath. "Sure."

"Ok, see last night, I wasn't myself--obviously you know that--but anything I did, or said, was way off in left field."

"Hold on," Jarod stopped the other's rambling with a raised hand. "So you're not the world's best hacker, and you didn't break through the security measures of the World Bank with the famed Mycroft?" He pouted mockingly. "I'm hurt."

"What? No, I did, I am, but Samantha shouldn't have said that..."

"And you didn't single handedly save the _SeaQuest_ from certain doom from the crazy ex-captain who commanded her before Captain Bridger?" Jarod cut him off.

Lucas was desperate to defend himself. "Well, no. All I did was stop a virus, anyway..."

"Or rescue some delegates from a hidden room at a UEO summit meeting using rock music?"

"Yes, but..."

Jarod stepped closer, cutting him off again with strong emphasized words. "And you don't think I have a tight butt?"

"I..._what_?" Lucas' train of thought screeched to a halt, spun off the track, and rolled away in pieces. He was going to kill her. Slowly.

_oooooo...uhm,_ Samantha cringed. _He does, but...but just say no._

"I know she can hear what I'm telling you," Jarod folded his arms and waited, seeing and feeling the tension in the young genius. This was rich.

_Oh great._ "Oh come on, you know that wasn't me," Lucas defended hotly. "I have a girlfriend." _Dig a deeper hole, Wolenczak. He's probably enjoying this._

"Yeah, Julianna. I know. She sounds cute. It makes me wonder what she'd think if she knew about Samantha." Jarod unfolded his arms and laughed. "Boy, you should have seen the look on your face!" he socked Lucas playfully in the arm. "Maybe Samantha will make you get in touch with your feminine side. Ha-ha! See ya," he started to walk away, "Oh, Samantha, I had a good time. I'll call ya," he winked. And with that, the young psychic jogged across the lawn into the Aspen building.

_He likes me,_ she sighed happily. _He thinks I'm gorgeous. He thinks I'm sexy..._

Lucas was poised with a remark, and looked as if his restraint would snap. _I think I'm going to be sick._

Abruptly, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. It was easier to ignore her when she couldn't use any part of him, but he wished the N.P.I had shut her up. He walked back to the cafeteria for food, finding his thoughts drifting to Jarod along with jealous feelings he wasn't prepared for. He tried to shake them off and leave it alone, but the thought of Jarod the Psychic going after Samantha made him surprisingly...angry.

_Oh, stop wanting to kill him. It's not like he was taking you seriously._ She paused, suddenly catching a little of that anger. _Wait a minute...You're jealous?_

"Don't sound so amused. I just don't like the guy."

_All right, whatever you say._

Lucas obviously intended the conversation to end there, so Samantha let it be. She learned long ago that pressing him achieved arguments instead of answers, but in this case, she didn't need words. She could feel it pulse through his body like the blood in his veins. It made her feel wanted to know he thought that much of her.

In kind, she let the day and lunch roll by in silence, broken only when he started humming "Walk on the Ocean" by Toad the Wet Sprocket.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

_The Next Day_...

"We're ready to begin the procedure."

Kristin Westphalen looked seriously at the small crowd gathered in a corner Chatton medical room. Samantha's lifeless body lay under a downward folded tan blanket on the med bed surrounded at the head by life support systems that emitted a steady cadence of small beeps.

Lucas nodded in assurance, though he felt the exact opposite. He wanted to run far away and hide.

_I don't know if I can do this_, Samantha uttered softly.

_It's the only way._ Lucas knew she was frightened and wished he couldn't feel it, but at least he didn't have to ask her what was wrong.

_Look at me. I'm dead._

_No you're not. This has to work. I wouldn't do this if I wasn't at least ninety percent sure._ He stepped up to the side of the bed, but failed to calm his quickly beating heart. He was afraid someone would hear it.

She felt his heart and the breath that slipped past his lips, and swallowed in fear. _I can't do this._

Lucas remained silent.

_What if I don't make it? What if I die?_

Lucas was still silent. What if he did loose her?

_Say something. Please._

All he could do was form a thought. _I won't let you die._

A voice from behind caught him, but he didn't turn.

"Just say when, Lucas," Kristin glided to the opposite side of the bed and watched the young sixteen year old fight for speech.

His blue eyes ran across Samantha's physical form from head to toe to head. Could he go through with this? Could he give up the one person who knew him as well as he did, the one presence he was sure would never desert him or leave him stranded, or make excuses not to be around him? He'd wanted someone there his entire life; his father, his mother, even some of the crew had never filled the place except the captain. But he never felt camaraderie with authority. With Samantha Kinkade it was different. She was around his age, she understood him, and she was his friend. He'd become so use to her being there, he felt sparks of fear when he thought of what it would be like to be without her.

"Lucas," Bridger placed a hand on his shoulder, clearly seeing the battle in the other's features, "let her go."

Lucas took a deep breath and focused his eyes on Samantha's. This was something that had to be done, weither he liked it or not. He pursed his lips, waited a moment more, then spoke. "I'm ready."

Wendy pulled back Samantha's eyelids revealing empty jade-green eyes.

Lucas inhaled sharply, forcing his eyes to remain locked, and concentrated hard. He felt Samantha's energy burn through his arms and legs, his mind, to his eyes forcing him to tear, then as soon as he'd felt every bit of her gathered, he pushed.

She refused to go. It was a moment of suspense that he was unprepared for. He tried again, but nothing happened. "I can't." His eyes closed tight.

"Yes you can," Westphalen insisted.

"No!"

She spoke lightly. "Let her go, Lucas.

"No! You don't understand!" Lucas shrugged away from her and turned. "I won't loose her, too!"

"Lucas, calm down. You're being irrational," Westphalen began smoothly.

He spun. "Irrational? No, I think I'm being perfectly rational. My whole life people just left me alone and hardly thought twice about it. Sure, they write cards or send a few vid calls, but in the end, they always disappear. It's the cold law of reality and I won't add her to that list. Not this time."

"We won't abandon you, and neither will she if you give her the chance to prove it. Look at me." She gripped his shoulders and lightly shook him. "Dammit, Lucas, look at me!"

Lucas looked up and blinked.

"I know you want to keep her and that she feels familiar to you, but you can't live with her for the rest of your life. She needs to live her own. Sooner or later the two of you will merge to form a new personality and we'll loose both of you." Her eyes softened. "Don't leave it like this."

Lucas' breath caught in his throat. He looked from her to the captain and back again. "How do I know she..."

"Just have faith," Kristen urged gently. "Trust her."

Lucas swallowed and forced back every urge to turn around and run. Once more, he nodded.

This time Samantha forced herself to separate from him and waited until Lucas locked eyes with her body again. Kristin was right, and she knew it. It would take the will power of them both to pull this off.

Lucas felt the grip she held on him loosen and locked eyes with Samantha's body again. This time he pushed harder, fearing he'd keep her if he hesitated.

In a rush he felt her energy leave him--yanked as if by strings from his eyes, and his head became light. For a split second, he thought time had stood still. The three psychics placed their hands over Sam's heart and head, and formed a straight path of energy back to her body.

Samantha's determination faltered. She made one last desperate grab for Lucas, catching a small bit of his energy before the psychic path drug her back to herself, taking that small bit with it. Then everything went black.

Lucas exhaled and braced himself wearily on the mattress, wondering if he had done the right thing. His head rang with silence.

Several moments passed, tension filled the air, but Samantha didn't move.

Lucas swallowed. "Something's wrong." He urgently leaned close to Samantha's face. "Come on, Sam, wake up. Wake up," his voice was more desperate with every word. "Don't do this to me, Samantha. _Wake up_."

He grabbed her eyelids and forced them open, staring hard into her green eyes.

"Lucas, no!" Westphalen urgently forced him back just as Lucas had made the connection,. She had to lock her arms around him to keep him from breaking free

"She's gonna die!" he struggled. "No! Let me go, I have to take her back. Doctor, she's gonna die!"

"Nathan!"

Bridger took over Westphalen's hold and held him back so the doctors could check Samantha over.

"Get him out of here," she ordered.

Lucas had gone beyond speech to just watching. Samantha still hadn't moved, and he was sure Dr. Maybrid had said she was barely breathing.

Kristin left Wendy and Maybrid in order to shoo Lucas outside, and with help from the captain, they managed to get him out the door.

Lucas spun on him the moment the door clicked shut. "Why won't you let me take her back? I nearly had her!" he demanded. Angry, he slammed his palm against the door. He wanted to break through it, break through his own body away from the tight helplessness clutching at his throat.

"Because it took all you had just to return her. If you take her back you may never give her up," Bridger answered.

"But she'll die," Lucas argued.

"You don't know that." Bridger let the pause float between them for a few seconds.

Lucas' poised comeback was barely restrained and Bridger knew to act now or he'd have another explosion on his hands.

"I think you should come with me." He put his arm around Lucas, who--despite his want to destroy the door--accepted the help and walked down the corridor to the arboretum to wait.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

_She was barely breathing. God please..._

He was sure something had gone wrong.

Lucas wasn't a religious man, but he prayed anyway. Two weeks ago, he would have thought it strange to talk to someone who wasn't there, but now it actually felt comforting as he leaned on his knees and begged an unseen being to spare the life of a girl--of his best friend. He shuddered a breath.

It had been over fifteen minutes since the transfer and not a single word on her condition had been brought to him. Unsettled, he paced the stone walk of Chatton's arboretum like a runway. Plumes of multicolored flowers and different types of trees and shrubs surrounded the picturesque place of solitude, but he was blind to it. All he could see was her small lifeless body lying on the medical bed. Fear clenched in his stomach in a tight ball; fear of being alone, fear of loosing a friend, fear of being responsible for her death. It caused him to crumble a fistful of his shirt.

He sat on a curved stone bench and ran his hands through his hair. The water in the smooth rock pool reflected his face in a perfect mirror, but he felt hollow as if something had been carved out of his soul. He also felt the pain and loss of emptiness fill him. Some things had gone from him when he pushed her back, but he could tell bits of her had stayed behind. Though it was a small comfort, it wasn't enough to fill the void that swallowed him whole.

A leaf fell on the water and rippled the image.

What would he do if she didn't survive? He bit his lip, staring down into the water. Samantha had been the most irritating person he'd met, she'd countered him at every turn, insulted him, given him a reason to fight for his place on the _SeaQuest_, but dammit to hell if he couldn't live another day without hearing her voice, even if all she did was insult him.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't hear the smooth doors of the arboretum slide open, or the soft footsteps pad along the river-stone walk. Something in him sparked familiarity and warmth and he looked up, instantly sucking in a breath.

"The captain told me you were out here," Samantha's long white hospital gown fluttered in the light Florida breeze and casually tossed her loose brown hair.

"Sam," breathless, Lucas stood and stepped closer. His heart rose into his throat.

Samantha smiled and touched her own face. "Yeah. It's me. I'm back."

He placed his hand over hers, letting it fall gently to her shoulder. "I thought you'd-"

"Died? Lucas, you of all people should know I'm not that easy to get rid of."

He couldn't help but smile. That void of emptiness had been replaced by soaring joy and he let it fill him as his left hand move from her shoulder back to her face, tracing her features. He wanted to know it was her, to be sure she was real, to be sure she wasn't an illusion.

She inhaled at his touch, savoring the sensation it made on her skin--firm as a man's hand, but soft and strong and familiar. It was the first time she'd known his touch apart from him. "What are you doing," she whispered.

"I'm mapping you," he grin when she smiled back in remembrance, and cupped her hand over his. Lucas embraced her, wrapping his arms around her small body and held on.

"Thank you," she whispered into his neck.

She let him hold her in warm comfort and was perfectly content with the idea of staying there forever. His touch filled something in her she knew had gone to him, and she relaxed. Her hand slid through his blond hair testing gently. She smiled. It was just as soft on her own skin as she remembered from his. Her small hands gripped his shirt in her fists and she held on, needing to know he wouldn't abandon her now.

Lucas exhaled, tightening his grip, then backed away. "Oh, I almost forgot," he reached up and removed the dolphin ring necklace. Gently he placed it around her neck so it hung just past her collar bone. "Thought you might like it back."

She brushed her fingers over the ring and smiled. This ring had been the most noticeable sign of her existence over the past couple weeks, and it had remained around Lucas' neck for ninety-nine percent of that time. In a sense, it was a small link between them.

"I can't believe it's actually over," she breathed.

Lucas nodded in silent agreement, then realized she was shivering. "You're cold. You should go back to the infirmary and rest."

"I know," she shook her head and sighed, "I know, but I had to see you--how you were doing." Her legs still felt too weak to hold her since her body hadn't moved in two weeks.

"You never could listen to other people's suggestions." Seeing her falter, he wrapped his arm around her for support.

She chuckled lightly. "And you never knew when to admit you were wrong."

He smiled. For the first time in a long time, he was truly happy. Relief settled over him like a fine mist and he finally let the past events rest. He didn't know what exactly happened during the transfer, but something told him he would soon find out. Right now, all he wanted was his ever busy mind to dwell on the present.

She accepted his help and walked with him to the door. "Now, about not being able to play the kazoo..."

He laughed and ruffled her hair. "You couldn't teach a flying monkey to play the kazoo."

"Then I guess you are hopeless," she laughed, wrapping an arm around his waist to relieve some of the burden of him having to hold her up. Samantha had never known what it was like to trust someone completely, but then again, she had never before had a true close friend.

tbc


	15. Epilogue

_**SeaQuest**_

**Epilogue**

Samantha and Lucas returned to the _SeaQuest_ three days later with more of an understanding of each other, and a few knots closer in their friendship. Things went back to normal for a while. Samantha rejoined the lab 4 research team, and Lucas slipped into his usual routine of fixing the computer when someone rang his doorbell. Though not everything returned to the way it was.

Their secret remained between the original scientists of Dr. Terrence Maybrid's staff, although the Chatton Parapsychology Center gained a new research division.

Not long after they'd returned, they discovered the bond they had made while trapped in one body continued to flow between them. The knowledge they shared from being together for so long split between them, earning Samantha a promotion to assistant computer analyst, and Lucas understood the intricacies of oceanography, cetaceans, and music in much more detail. They also formed an empathic link to one another that would sometimes progress to physical if extreme enough.

Those on board who knew, kept that secret to themselves. Tim had found it humorous that Samantha could be having a conversation with him in the mess, and suddenly for no reason at all, start laughing out loud, or yelp out in pain. On the other side of the ship, Lucas--for example--had just heard an incredibly funny joke from Ben, or burned himself.

Captain Bridger finally received a full nights sleep.

And Miguel got his replacement WSKRS.

They were more comfortable around each other, and that showed in the way they'd work together. At times, their motions would seem choreographed. The crew got use to their finishing each others sentences, and were grateful the teenage battles had become few and far between, though not totally extinct. Even though this ordeal had ended, they still had the unseen mysteries of tomorrow to face.

But that's another story.

The End…Or is it?


End file.
